Neverwinter Forest and his throat burns from the screaming

A quiet chuckle escaped her at the unfortunate nickname. His mother sounded fun, like hers, but that wound was too fresh to pick at. Blackbear didn't inquire further on the woman. "Sand comes out easier, at least," she said, surprised to find someone who didn't enjoy sand. It was a common enough thing, but Blackbear's love of beaches and waterways kept her blinded to its faults.

"Come here," she suggested, sitting up and offering the space before her with a wag of her tail. "I'll help you get cleaned up, if you want."

There was no flirtation in her voice, but she was desperate to be touched. She'd grown up in a tactile family, and her months without them had left her terribly wanting for closeness and affection. It left her open to many terrible things, but she was young, and no one had taught her to be afraid.