HEAD FOR THE HILLS - open; Typhoon capture

[Keona.]

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✯ — keona sibéal ó faoláin. female. minnow of the typhoon. blind. rusty spotted cat.  ref. bio.

The petite fae had gone quiet at some point on the way.  Stopped kicking.  Stopped pretending her claws were long and sharp - perhaps sharp - enough to do some damage.  To do something.  Resigned to dangle in the jaws of someone she did not know.  It'd gotten drier too.  The sea-breeze, something she had known her entirel life, even before she and her father landed on Typhoon shores, was gone.  It was not hot yet, but she could feel the sun on her fur.  Had heard the distinct sound of paws sliding on sand as they made the trip.  Not beach sand.

Here? No, I don't think so. Keona's ears flattened sharply against her skull, paws skidding a few steps back away from the voice's presence.  Her blood boiled. "Says who?" the minnow protested, tail lashing.  Her pale, sea-green hues flickered, the gears in her brain moving.  He was Pitt... This had to be... The Pitt's home then.  Away from the ocean, with strange sand.  But how far was that?  How long had they been traveling? "Is é an Typhoon mo bhaile," her voice felt small.  She felt small.  She was, after all, but even in the Typhoon, where there were jungle leaves larger than her, it had bothered her less than it did now.

This was enemy territory.

"Keona." They would only have one of her names. "I want to go home." Da was probably just a little behind us.  He'll catch up. Then they'll be sorry.  Uncle Sea and Raziel too. "You don' decide where I live," that was her job.  Or... Her family's.  No stranger could just decide that.

tá mé i dtiúin — ✯