Wheeling Gull Isle his foolish decrees, his words so contrived

Aquillius’s face was a thing made of stone, unintentionally mirroring his father in one easy motion. His single eye swept between the two, then down to the fish.

I do not know. He spoke, shuffling uncomfortably at the idea of sharing the creature with the other boy. Even if he was sorry, Aquillius was a creature who took a first impression and ran with it. A soldier’s mind, in that of a mere boy.

I have never seen it before. The fish here are strange. He commented briefly, before falling silent, not lifting his eye from the shark. He would do as asked, as anyone of his bearing would be wont to do, but he wouldn’t act joyful about it.