Ocean's Breath Plateau eld-aunt

Tullik, herself wash in salt crystals, had been busy herself. A swath of kelp lay drying in the entrance of the den, ready to be prepped into strips of bandage, or woven into a carry bag for herbs, quick to fall apart, but an easy means of transport.

She came to him still damp around the back and the neck, saltwater dried into her scent, tail waving idly. The sea had rewarded them dearly today, and she chuffed her appreciation with a wiggle of her whiskered nose against the side of Chakliux’s face.

His words came to her then and she let out a soft noise of curiosity.

The scars? She questioned without trepidation, mere curiosity in her tone.