Lion Head Mesa [mp] no weenies allowed!

Tuna can only watch in pure empathetic agony as she sees Inji pull away with a bloody whine. biting seemed grand at first, but they were not camels with tough palettes to crush away the thorns without any regard. instead, they are just poor fleshy creatures with often no means to protect themselves from anomalies in the environment.

"hey hey! yew can't get injured tew 'ahn mah watch" she says to the other with a light-hearted huff. there was tavina, but what would the healer know besides to make some form of bandage for the wounds? perhaps she knew of a way to contort out of the bush, but again, the loyal tuna has no desire to become a bother to others. "well, our healer is tavina, but ah dunno how she's gonna dew much better than yew with this bush in'tha way." Inji is full of ideas, and perhaps Tuna is full of just... not wanting to be a pain, a literal thorn in the side.

at the mention of being no such stranger to this line of work, tuna's ears attempt to perk up before hitting the big spikes above. there's a hum, a finger would tap her chin had she a free hand, and soon tuna's warm gaze searches for her counterpart's. "f'ahn thangs," she comes to say, "be'utifl thangs. tha queen's gott'n eye fer treasures. flowers, gems, other stuff tha traders bring'n." haizel had the flowers covered, and tuna is no rock connoisseur.

"tha others, jus' gewd meals an' wah-ne." perhaps she considers them brutish, perhaps she could find them charming and simple, same as she views herself. "but sometimes, purty faces tew. yew best be careful 'round som'a them men here. a fellahin ain't an art exhibit, if they want'chu, they'll'ave yew." their caverns are often filled with delight for a reason, after all. while tuna does not believe all of them to be bad, she cannot deny that there is a certain feeling of meat more than respect that can come with being a servant.