Ankyra Sound incarceration

The mess on the beach would probably be swept away when the tide came in, so he wasn't really thinking about the aesthetics of his efforts. Sometimes when he ripped up the clusters of grass, small things would tumble out. Bits of shell most often, or grains of sand sure, but from time to time a frenzied crab trying to get clear of his rampage. When the boy slunk up close and spoke, Firefly had a mouthful of reeds clutched between his teeth. He spat it out and appeared to be grimacing; he hadn't anticipated being disturbed this early, and hadn't thought that his own behavior might be bothering others - it never crossed his mind really.

Who're you? He quipped instead of answering the boy, glowering with the full strengh of his bad mood. Something about the kid was familiar, but he couldn't place it. It reminded him of how familiar-but-not the scent of that dumb cat in the grotto turned out to be, and he was hesitant to engage the stranger.