Sea Lion Shores This bridge was written to make you feel smitten

reed isn't sure for a moment whether the woman is calling the sea lion or her grumpy, and a rather cross expression fleetingly pinches her face. but no, obviously she means the sea lion that shouted in her face -- the girl's own face smooths out as the stranger looks to her, not the least bit sheepish for having made that temporary assumption. what? it's not as if others haven't taken her to be a grump. she's just rough around the edges. and more than a little self-important.

the titian medic shakes her head as she takes a few steps closer, leaving a wide birth around the cranky sea creatures. "they don't come in as far as the island," she explains, gesturing with her slim nose back toward undersea. at this distance it is a fragile line of green against the glassy blue horizon. "besides, they're loud, obstructive, and probably don't even taste good," reed adds, crinkling her nose at the thought; whether or not that is what the stranger was attempting to do, her opinion on it is pretty clear. she hasn't gotten a clear answer to her original question yet but she declines to press it, instead saying, "i'm reed, by the way," with a little flourish.