Swiftcurrent Creek curse of the black pearl

mwen t'ink so, wi, she tries to speak in the many tongues she hears and is exposed to, combining them into some sort of conlang of the them; but there is a sly glint in her eye, as if she thinks she is being clever.

she considers asking for a bone to snack on, to suckle the marrow out of ... but she would make a game out of it later. something akin to finding a lost treasure. even if it wasn't lost so much as tucked away in some corner of the den.