Wheeling Gull Isle plaža

It must be some sort of sea creature, he decided, maybe a strange pinniped of some kind. Where were its flippers though? Right as that thought drifted through his head, the entity halted in its tracks and made a noise. Then the fish was deposited on the ground and Caracal could sort of make out a mouth, as well as a tail swaying at the rear of the bedraggled lump.

He sucked in a sharp breath as the weird animal spoke to him. It knew about Sweetharbor?! Caracal took a skittish step backward. He didn’t have the words “the power of Christ compels you!” but he projected that very sentiment at the oddity. This included holding up a paw even as he recoiled, a silent demand for the thing not to come any closer until he could make sense of it.

Who—what—who are you? he sputtered.

Thanks for the kudos, lol.