Wheeling Gull Isle danseuses de delphes

Driftwood remembered to breathe a little more deeply as she reassured him that really, it was all right. (Not that he was quite so panicky as to be full-on hyperventilating merely from this conversation, or anything, but the pacing of his lungs had gotten just a little more shallow and rapid.) Oh! he said to her explanation. Not anything he'd've expected to hear. A unique tale among all of Undersea, in fact, so far as Driftwood knew or remembered...which, er, might not actually be the best barometer of uniqueness after all, come to think. Whales could swim through some of the gaps in his memory, after all. Oh, well that makes sense, then.

Driftwood frowned thoughtfully, and with a touch of concern, racking his brains quickly for a moment before he replied again. Currituck...? No, no, I've never met her...I don't think. He looked down at the ground in embarrassment for a second as that last slipped out..."I don't think." Sheesh, Drift, really? You don't have to outright TELL her what a forgetful idiot you are... Driftwood suspected that regardless of how polite this exotic-spoken lady was being, he was not making too great of a first impression, here. Foot, meet mouth. But I'm glad that she led you to come here as well, he fumbled hastily to add. We're always glad to see new faces around here. And I hope you're able to make this island and pack a good home for yourself and Currituck both.