Ankyra Sound I ain't ever had a type, having a type takes two

A normal-ass one, she responded, crumpling her own brows down into a severe frown. Seriously. Skookumchuck could've sufficed without all that other shit about being some kind of lucky shadow. What the hell did "lucky shadow" even mean? Shadows couldn't be lucky, or at least not in her experience. Shadows meant rain was coming. Shadows frightened the fish away. Shadows doused the light... and sometimes that light was desperately needed, so there was nothing objectively good about shadows as far as she was concerned.

My name is Wylla, she said, as if to point out to Skookumchuck what a normal-ass name was supposed to sound like. Just Wylla, because unlike you, I had a sane bitch for a mother. That was when she noticed him poking his snout into her mile-wide personal bubble, something she'd overlooked before, and took a conspicuous step back. No thank you to catching whatever brand of crazy he was infected with.