Totoka River table for two

The explanation that was given did nothing to soothe Swordfish’s growing anxieties. He’d latched himself to a grief-stricken fool, dead set on finding a missing girl who could very well be dead and washed away in the salt water.

An’ what if Blossom is- Over there?

Swordfish tossed his snout to the southeast. Then to the west.

Or there.

Hooded eyes latched to Lestan’s face. Swordfish was trying to find reason in the scrambled remains of this man’s mind. There was no logical sense to what he suggested. Their small slice of land - between the island, the river, and the forest - was limited ground.

What if she’s gone and- and hit her head, yeah? Lost her memories ‘er somethin’. Standin’ in the sand won’t fix it. Won’t find her, neither.

The comment about their potential traveling partner was ignored. Whoever Lestan referenced wasn't with them and so they had no importance.