Dragoncrest Cliffs i might as well take a minute or two to talk about the perks

While cousin Sobeille and the newcomer— Dogface?— huddled nearby in conversation, Sapphique’s resident Scaramouch limped alongside the massive carcass as gulls cried and crowed over his interference.

Most of them flitted from his path, but one larger-than-average seagull braved Jean-Heron’s approach with an indignant squawk, lording over its hard won patch of salted, swollen whalemeat.

Napoleonic anger swept through him; a lunge was made for the stinking melt of blubber, and a furious gullscreech sounded as the chimera commandeered the area in retaliation.

Alas, the seagull was either extremely persistent or its thirst for retribution was equal to his own, because in the same moment that he released the stolen meat to gloat, the bird swooped back down and (accidentally?) snagged the tip of Jean-Heron’s tongue in a razorsharp pinch of its beak.

Wrenching his head backwards with a yelp— the altercation over in the breadth of a second— his tongue was painfully forked.

The resulting yowl sounded over the cacophonous gulls as the whole flock took flight for a few flaps before settling again to noisily feast. And as his caterwaul subsided to whimpers, blood welled freely from between Jean-Heron’s teeth.