Otatso Wetlands You can pay uncle sam with the overtime

Scouting as a job?
You can just, like, do that? she seems aghast, a bewildered look to chocolate eyes. Huh. Maybe I'll talk to him about it. We could probably benefit from an ambassador, at least, right? She says, as if Lilia knew a damn thing about the Valley trio. But with how the trip to Akashingo weighed on her mind, Germanicus, the trial — everything felt tense, shaky; as if one wrong move would make somebody split.
But in truth, she felt guilty for wanting to pursue such a trade — hardly was she at home at all, as of late, and the responsibility of Gamma hung high above her head. The Creek was flooding in many ways. But it was useful, was it not? As far as she knew, no one had even thought of pursuing it. No one else got out very much to begin with.
The sky above had faded into a ruddy orange, pink-tinted clouds overhead visible between the fronds of the willows around them. As Lilia speaks of seafood, Wren's gut twists; for now, Swiftcurrent needed her home.
I should probably go back to them, she grunts, an idle swing of a foreleg across the moss-laden ground. But if I ever come to the coast, I'll find you, and you can show me where to catch the best seafood, eh? And with that, a toothy grin.