But Where's the Rum Gone? [Steel]

The lad had a point. Why would he want to try something he thought to be disgusting or foul? It made a lot of sense, and yet Hascal couldn't help but chuckle. How he wished Illyria was here, she would have gotten quite a laugh out of this whole ordeal. To them, there was nothing but the sea and it's creatures, but to this lad there was all the rest of the world. The lad then gave him an answer. He might be hungry, but he wouldn't promise to like whatever Hascal caught him. Another chuckle rolled from tired lips as he stood to his paws. The seadog took a moment to stretch, and then tossed his muzzle in the direction of a tide pool - in case the boy wanted to follow and observe. "I'm going to check this one over here," he offered in further invitation. With a flick of his tail he was off, moving toward the tide pool. He knew there would likely be a crab or two, but given the boy's obvious uncertainty about them he hoped for a fish. As he moved toward it he heard the boy ask his name, and with a quick glance over his shoulder he would respond. "Hascal.. and ye, lad?" His pace slowed as he neared the pool, though it was slightly foolish given the fact that none of the creatures in the pool could hope for escape. Still, out of habit he slowed and surveyed what lingered in the mere foot-deep pool. "Yo ho ho!" he exclaimed as two yellow fish darted to and fro - avoiding his circling shadow. With practiced skill he would sweep one from the pool betwixt his jaws, shaking it once, twice to ensure it was dead. In a smooth motion he would toss it in the lad's direction before pivoting to see the boy's reaction. "Even a landlubber like you ought to enjoy that treat."

"Speech"
'thoughts'