Ankyra Sound to live and die by the sword

a figure moves along the sand; more suited to camouflaging against the tawny sands than their smoke and obsidian pelage. at first, they pay no mind but something about the stranger tugs at their mind; sharp. demanding.

not a stranger, they realize as their seaglass gaze settles upon her. the brazen one; of whom they were pleased to note no longer haunted blackwater islands.

the one whom spoke of something called an atka and sos. salmon pink tongue drawls across their jowls. she is not close to his islands but the fact remains that the sound is the easiest way for them to move to and fro the mainland.

they make no attempts to call out, remembering none too fondly their last encounter. given how the memory sours on their tongue like rotten meat they cannot help but wonder why the wraiths of the void have seen fit to force their and her paths to cross once more.