Mak/Conversations
Start
What indignity have you come to heap upon the mound, whelp? Out with it.
Croak
*crrrk*
Founder
What of it? Scurry on and leave me to brood.
Founder2
Why? A lifetime of vexation. Born to a cacophony of static ringing the ears raw. Thousands of my kinfolk cut down by that porphyric wasp fools called Lamb. A millenium of hot stinking sun and disgusting brine lice for supper.
Misery obtains on this pond, whelp. By Chavvah if you start beaming like a sunray and yodeling at the Beetle Moon, I'll eat you where you stand.
Who
Who am I? Mak. That's all you get. I'll not waste the honey of my mouth on idle inquiries.
Stature
...
And? Is that the whole of your fool statement?
Stature2
Trust what you hear of the svardym, whelp. The sky blackens at our accession and we are like to eat you.
Freehold
Have the adiyy chewed the hue from your eyes? See for yourself. Free folk make a gathering here and their racket rings through the reef. One can hardly steep in his greens without being mewled to by a salt-stung baby.
Pond
It was once.
Pond2
Whelp, affix your eyes to that clam right yonder. Go step inside and find your answers.