Totoka River you need not be hanged like a dog

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— the pirate only faintly manages to lift his head and peek at the woman come to gloat at his god forsaken corpse. 'course, she wasn't—but his delusions had gone farther than this smallness before.
her question is met by a sneer and the rumbling growl he produces, but it is, by all accounts, weak. a sad excuse for what he could've once mustered. his head flops back down weakly and he produces a small groan, watching the river flow by him.
oy, what be the fuckin' point! a paw lashes out to dip into the water and splash some in her direction. fuck off, willya!