Dragoncrest Cliffs Alligatorfish

The familiar touch of his friend was a relief.

Quennell was alright – he was there, with Swordfish. The young seafarer breathed a sigh through his nose. He allowed his eyes to close but he remained awake and listening to the breathing of the red-naped pirate at his haunch. Their excursion into the jaws of death had only just started to feel real. The redtail had existed in a strange dreamlike state since their arrival in Sapphique.

Yer alright, Quen? How’s yer ass?

Swordfish did not smile. He had hoped that the question might come off as teasing, joking. In the deadpan drawl of the young wolf, it only sounded sad. In that moment, he wished that he could do a better job to cheer his friend up.