Seaside Moors Maybe I should get to church on Sunday...

*energetic seal clap!!!!*

Crabs are odd things. It is not the first time she has sought them out in her life, and while this one is for the benefit of the new mother Stryx cannot help but think of the rich meat inside the alien carapace. How rich it would be - how beneficial to her own belly. Bits of her oath play through her mind like a mantra - do no harm - and she wonders if it would count as harm if she ate the meal herself.

She does not have to wait long and as soon as the bronzed shape materializes in her peripheral vision she latches her teeth upon one of the still-intact legs of the crab. Its tucked neatly against a chunky set of pincers. Her teeth drag lightly across the rough surface of the chitin but she pauses, hearing the woman's voice, and withdraws from it.

Yes. This is for Raleska, or... Whomever. Rather than grabbing the crab she noses at it, pushes it, and it rocks on an uneven keel. She licks her lips again, finds a shard of shell on her lip and flicks it to the ground with her tongue. Are you her mother?