Wheeling Gull Isle She's spending every weekend at my place

The noise Titmouse made was good enough for Lucas; as his newest companion made for the stick, Lucas stretched out his legs and broad paws to rise once more. It was then, as Titmouse got a good hold on the stick and then seemed to reconsider, that Lucas noticed his empty eye socket. For some reason the scars marring the man's face and body didn't affect him much, but seeing that dark hole where an eye should be made his stomach flip-flop.

So uh, he tried, quelling a desire to turn and gag, how'd you... urp... how'd you lose your eye? He busied himself with trying to grasp the stick alongside Titmouse so they could move it to the sea together, and despite having asked about it, he kept his focus steadfastly away from that little empty pocket of raven-black flesh.