mom's dear old friend!

Everything is a test! Everything is a trick! she wanted to shriek impudently, but Makara bit her tongue until she tasted copper. No, no. She had to keep it cool. Keep it all bottled up inside. She would not let him see her break. It would be her own small victory. Makara listened as he continued. The Pirate King? The Pirate King? Suddenly her mouth went dry, only intensifying the taste of blood left behind. He was on the approach again, and she let him walk up on her. There was no point in stepping back, he would close the distance again and again and again until he got what he wanted.

"I saw her by the pool of fire just west of the Battleground. We spoke briefly, as I said - I - " she was beginning to lose herself now and it took her a moment to stop and haul herself back together. The rest of the sentence was addressed up at him, since he insisted on being so close that she had to crane her head like child: "she was about your height, wearing a hat, her fur shades of brown. Muted colors. Markings on her face like freckles. She told me not to get too serious, have a good time, get goods, and be good to those who are good to me." You've never once been good to me. Not a single time. She couldn't keep the petulant thought out of her head, but her words had been measured and sure. "Then she passed me those items and told me to pass along that message to my parents, about the god children. She left shortly after and put plenty of distance between us." Makara stared down her nose up at her father, hoping that the interrogation would end soon so could absolutely lose her mind in private.