Coconut Grove stone washed, so raw, moped like a bullet

Paradise. Yes, in a way this grove was indeed a slice of just that. The sun would warm up the land every now and then, the scent of salt would always remain in ones fur, and the ocean would always provide nourishment for its lucky fishermen. At the mention of his name, Gracious gently dipped her head at him. “Gracious, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Tristan.”  

When she looked at him, Gracious thought of the young man as quite decent looking. Although she was not one to judge others so quickly, she did think about young monarchs and their success rate. ”Have you found citizens for your margaritaville?” she asked politely, very much so interested in Tristan’s success so far.