Coconut Grove bird song

His name was Lómion. A strange name, but yet, it fit him. “Well, then, Lómion. It’s a pleasure.” He spoke quietly the word “moon” — Perhaps he knew of the moon pack here along the shore, then he asks if Moontide is near. “See that plateau in the distance?” She said as she turned her head towards the east, “That’s Moontide’s claim.”

She looked him over once more, medium built, lanky, with a cloak of ash and soot. She didn’t smell anyone else on him, most likely a loner, as she one was.