Sequoia Coast sucks to be an optimist in this listless dissolution

no need to apologize! <3

onyro, still unsure what exactly kind of almost canine creature he's looking, lingers on the precarious edge of rushing forth and fleeing. only to decide to do neither. instead, the demon watches as bits of flesh and thick ropes of slobber drip from the wrinkled beasts' jowls.

he sees the action of her chewing, though the menacing crunch of fishbones betwixt her jaws goes unheard by him.

again, the stench of infection hits him and he ghosts toward her: a small step; hesitant and weighted carefully.

he thinks of the words he wants to say, of how they give rise to the vibrations in his throat and give meaning even if his voice is guttural and toneless; a blunt edged sword. your wounds are infected. though he assumes she already knows as such. infection — from what he remembers — tended to throb and pierce where it lingered.