Gilded Bay Oceans don’t speak to each other, they just wave

Gracious watched her gently, seeing the shelled creature be set down before scuttling away. When it washed itself away with the tide, Gracious let out a gentle chuckle. "Silly little things, aren't they?" she asked, though changed her attention to the lady in front of her. She nodded her head, fish seemed to be much easier to work with than the other mollusks that are laying about; how can one even intend to open such hard-shelled creatures?

Gracious would eventually understand once she adjusted to her seawater life. She nibbled at her fish, though paused at the mention of the other's name. Wraen, hailing from the Firebirds -- now that sounded pretty epic. The greyscale woman nodded her head to show she was listening, then offered her own name as a response. "Gracious, I come from Margaritaville." Her own pack name sounded silly to say, but perhaps it represented the same youthful and silly energy Tristan has. "I haven't heard of your pack before, where are you guys based?" she asked with gentle curiosity.