Dragoncrest Cliffs get outside

val beamed. a compliment from his maman was rare, and rarer still was it that he could eke an arrangement out that benefited them both at no cost to his overwhelming fear of the sea.

he marveled how easily rosalyn took to the water. what was it about the soul that decided which fear possessed its heart? and why had his selected something so integral and basal to his life?

he worked in silence, amassing a saddle of kelp which sagged down his spine. you make a good harvester, maman. val joked at one return trip. who do you think the first wolf was to figure out seaweed was edible and useful for herbs? she or he must have been pretty hungry.