Sea Lion Shores and a voice cut from steel

right, praimfaya affirms with a delicate nod of her head; mindful of her wounds. wanheda is my title. my name is praimfaya. but being unintentionally high off the spores of the luminous mushrooms hadn't left much room for proper introductions. pri for short. because she knew that sometimes 'praimfaya' could be quite a mouthful for non-native trigedasleng speakers. in my defense i was high off those weird glowing mushrooms, a flash of linkoln's face blindsides her for a moment before the mental image of what she thought the first wanheda looked like fades; like smoke betwixt her teeth.

i was suffering from hallucinations. she says this with a cheeky grin. glad to see that i didn't imagine you though. if she's shared anything else with him in the dark woods she doesn't remember. so, d'you have a name? or do you want me to run around calling you ripa? she asks with a teasing lilt to her tone.