Wheeling Gull Isle hunting

wow sorry, this response is... terrible.

The sound of a male voice brought Strand out of her pain, which had gone down to a whimper and not a howl. But at the sound of the voice, she straightened her back and sniffled, forcing herself to quit being a baby in front of company. “Yeah,” she agreed, turning her head to look at him. “Yeah it does hurt. But I can take it.” She gave a wild grin, fire in her eyes. “It’s nothin’ compared to this!” She gestured with her muzzle towards her shoulder, the bite marks still clearly visible as they slowly scabbed over. “I gave that guy so much hell that he ran for it!” Here she was definitely lying, but what was she supposed to say? That she’d gotten her ass handed to her on a silver platter? No way! This random dude didn’t need to know her little secret. Let him think she was a badass. (Except, no badass would ever cry so much from getting pinched by a crab…)