Pedicure, manicure, kitty-cat claws

Tyrian sniffed dismissively in response to Sparrow's statement about letting him join if he was lucky. Yeah, she was going to be king pirate just like he was going to sprout wings and take to the skies like a hawk someday. Possible? Fire and ice jumped out of the sky sometimes so sure, why not. But likely? Nah.

He squinted at her after she asked if he knew how to grow claws. After a beat he rolled his eyes and sighed in exasperation. ”You don't grow claws, Sparrow, either you have them or you don't, duh. God, you're such a baby sometimes, I swear.” Unable to resist needling her, Tyrian glanced slyly at Sparrow and then added, ”You're never going to be pirate king if you keep talking like a baby.”