It is tedious taking this filly to the Cove. She is like an injured bird and he wonders if they should have just put it out of it's misery. But this thing is a nice thing, and Kirin likes nice things.
Kult also wonders how the girl will get along, clinging to Kersey's side as she does. He wondered how long it would be before his sister bit the child for her attempts to crawl into her side. Better her than him.
They do manage to reach it, the Cove that is, the familiar scent of sea and salt filling his nostrils. It is really too bad the child is afflicted with unseeing eyes, because if she were to behold anything, she should behold this- their home.
There is not a single place he can think of, that is more entrancing in appearance than the silver radiance of the beach. He has lived here his entire life and it still does not disappoint him- in fact he quite likes it. He kicks aside a random bone, the piece scuffing in sound along the grains of sand. He wonders if this child will grow accustomed to the crags, the rocks and loose sand. She must if she wants to live.
Kersey calls, a sound to come, to see- a sound of gifts. He knows Kirin will be happy to see this little green colored thing, even if it is a bit dirty. Well, perhaps it could do with a cleaning.
His ear pulls to the side, his sister asking a most absurd thing of him. He looks at her confused, eyes wide and nostrils flared. A look that says, "Who, me?" He turns his pitch colored eyes to the child, how could he possibly think of a name for someone? This skinny little girl they had just captured from the forest, this-
"Capture." He speaks, smiling at his own joke. Then he inspects the kid, lines of his mouth pulling in a tight frown. "Dirty." He looks at Kersey with a pointed stare, "Bath."
It just so happens they have a bath, a very big one.
