Memory is a crazy woman \\ Gale, any islanders

[Gale]

Gale run away with me-- lost souls and reverie running wild and running free   His words put an end to her odd gnawing at the wood, but she doesn’t answer him, and Gale’s dark head pulls back uncertainly as she looks up at him, then lowers her head. There’s something wrong with the bottom of her face, he realizes, though exactly what he is not sure. Having seen most of the ways that anatomy can go wrong with his own regenerating body, Gale is not disturbed. Well, not disturbed by her hanging tongue, but he is noticeably distressed by additional layer of strangeness that her apology adds to their interaction. He allows the silence between them to stretch, uncertain exactly how to respond to this display. Eventually, when a soft whisper in his head reminds him that the tide is coming in and she’ll soon be wet if she remains, and Gale speaks. “You don’t have to be sorry,” the pegasus tells her. “But you do need to move. The tide is coming in, and if you don’t get washed out the crab’s’ll find you when it goes back out with that blood there.” he gestures with his muzzle toward her own cracked lip. His knowledge of that last is only recently gained, having fallen asleep on his side in the sand after his most recent round of the Alliance. Though his injuries had healed, the blood remained, and the crab had pinched a very tender part of himself after Gale had accidentally rolled over onto it. @[Crackjaw]