a new place to get a lil bruised

"WEUAH@!!@@" Makara garbled as a stranger loped up beside her. The girl was the sort who got fully and entirely engrossed in her work when it began. She was made of simple stuff: a one track mind and a lot of words. "Omigosh I'm sorry for spazzing out, I just wanted to scope out this new spot since everyone's all crazy excited about it and it's okay I guess - well, who I am kidding - look at the sand! The sunset! The atmosphere!" she blabbed, her tail wagging aimlessly while she talked. Makara was known to run her mouth and even a stern look from her dad didn't always shut her up. "Yeah, yeah, yeah! Beach is big enough for two! I'm Mak, nice to meet ya!" she added, thinking alongside in embarrassment: oh crap I've been dodging responsibility for so long that whole entire new breathing, heart-beating wolves showed up? Shit, shit, shit... Okay, okay, okay. Maybe her father was right, she was slacking. Majorly slacking.

"I've just been sharpening these sticks to take along on hunts, or to stockpile as extra weapons for raids. Just... y'know, lots of sharp sticks. Very sharp. Good to keep around. For things that that require sharpness." Oh, her mouth was like a runaway antelope. On and on it went, over the horizon and through the fields. Makara grabbed one of the sharpened pieces of metal around the hilt and began to scrape away the end of the thick stick, working it towards a point.