YOKO ONO ; sea turtles

[GEORGIA.]

With the amount of joiners plaguing their numbers lately (her included), Georgia had found little solace. Most of them were her age, and some of them were more rambunctious than others. That being said, she hadn't exactly entered the Typhoon with a great deal of personal peace, so it wasn't as if she was losing much. However, she'd begun to find repetition in a schedule - adding a little bit to it each day. A nap was usually included, if she could find it in her restless heart to pause for a while. Checking on the fish in the shallows and nightly walks, if she could manage it. The recent amount of social interaction had been rather draining to her battery. These past few nights she found herself slipping right into bed, guilty and tired.

Of course, when she could, Georgia would haul her ass out to the beach, the inherent sense of hatchling time, hatchling time gnawing at her conscience. This would be the first hatchling season she'd seen, but the pull of the time felt ageless in her mind. Her mother's domain, likely. Her job sense passed down to Georgia. Her father used to tell her about the hundreds of baby turtles that were scattered across the beach, peppering the sands until the dunes were hardly visible in July and August. He'd explained to her that it was natural for seagulls to pick off some of the babies, but hoards of them were mean and could eat too many.

So Gia spent her free time curled in the shadows of the beach, watching the hatchlings as they made their way to the sea under the cover of night, blowing away gulls who got too greedy and luring the ocean waves a little further up the beach to make it just a little bit easier. She often slept on the beaches, sea green eyes falling shut sometime in the early morning.

Today, however, was different; a few brave hatchlings were making a break for the shallows in full daylight, which was terribly odd. Georgia was currently in the process of enjoying a snack when she heard the sharp cry of gulls not far from her location, followed by the cry of - what was that, a clanmate? It certainly wasn't a seagull.

Georgia swallowed her remaining mouthful and made her way to the shoreline as quick as she could, only to be greeted by the sight of an unfamiliar and stylish clanmate. He was spitting fire - and in the week or so she'd been here, Georgia had really just learned to blink and carry on with these things - and...bleeding? It seemed that he was the one to scream, based on the injury on his nose. He also seemed to be protecting the hatchlings, making him a friend in Gia's eyes.

"Hey!" Georgia just about bellowed, directing her fury at the sea gulls for one, picking on her crewmate, and two, for ganging up on a couple hatchlings. "Time for you all to fuck off!" With that, she sent a blast of air hurtling towards the birds, flinging them several meters down the shore. It wasn't permanent, but gave them some time.

Trotting around the hatchlings to reach Trygve, she nodded towards his wound. "You okay? They've got beaks sharper than you'd expect." She squinted at it a little harder. "Looks kinda deep." It really didn't occur to her to grab a medic - scrapes and scratches were fine; medics took care of broken legs and missing limbs. At least, in her opinion.