Gilded Bay the depths are calling

The stranger with cinnamon locks draws close with a perplexed bearing. Why indeed. Natjuk stills his tongue. He could say much. I deserve this. The pain makes me feel alive. I don't know. Any word that slipped from his lips would expose just how beaten he is. Toes dig deep into the sand. No way - no way he's doing that.

He shakes his head, still trembling. His teeth clatter loudly.

It never crossed his mind that the other may be legitimately worried about him. After all, what's there to fret about? He is nameless and homeless here; just another beast to compete against.