sandy nights inside our thoughts >> joining

[Keona.]

[align=center]— if I fall, get knocked down, pick myself up off the ground —

The smell of fresh blood, mixing with the scent of someone unfamiliar caught the tiny Privateer off-guard.  Little paws froze in place as her nose twitched.  Curious.  Wary.  Her rounded ears perked attentively as she flicked her tail.  Slowly, Keona begun to approach.

Pale, sea-green hues flickered.  She halted nearly a fox-length away from the stranger.  An unusual occurrence.  Most strangers met the crew at the border, with the bells.  Moons and moons ago, two years almost, the little faerie came upon the shore of Barracuda Bay in a small boat.  No bells.  So she must not assume the worst.

"Aloha." Her voice rings clear, albeit quiet in nature.  Polite this time.  Less curious.  She did not know what to make of the situation.  A stranger.  Recently caught prey.  He was not eating the prey.  No.  He seemed to be waiting.  "Can I help you? You're hunting on the Typhoon's territory."

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