Wheeling Gull Isle Welcome to my crib, take your shoes off please

I'm so sorry he's so internally rude ;_;

Well shit, she jumped anyway, and Tuathal took a small step back, in part spooked at her sudden movement, and in part because he was spooked by her. She looked like a hellhound straight out of the river Styx, or wherever things like that lived, and lucky for him he had enough tact to swallow the expletive that had almost budded on his tongue like some unsavoury flower.

How did such a sweet voice fill such a hellish looking lady? She spoke of the flowers, and met him in honestly such a polite and docile way that he didn't quite know what to do with her. "No, I'm right sure we haven't," he said, because he was certain he'd have remembered a face like hers, "Tuathal Blackthorn. I came over with Mal's crew, only been here a day or so. Still getting used to all the new smells, sights, faces, y'know," he rolled his shoulders as if to shrug, "never really lived near an ocean before."