Mm. Spring.

De wahm air pleases Tia. She miss de swampy steam from her long-time home...de bright wild eyes o' her chil'ren o'de rivahs.

Seasons of blood moons. Bah.

Best nae seein' pleadin' mout's at her door.

[sounds of the ocean in the background....]
So long dat dis place been keepin' her.

She listened to it's watahs, it's winds, eart', an' grounds...

It en't a home.

De sands be too fine. Sprays too thick. Mm.

Lackin' sultry sounds...de moon push 'n pullin' de waves...even it's -cold- be too bittah.

It en't a home.

Yuuji, chile, ye'd best be commin' bahk home.

Now. She's puttin' ye ta bed fo' a bit, hn?

Wickehd Jahk. Ye hae sometin' ta say ta her? Or are ye jus' gonna play silent 'til de mean fish goes back to where he's been sent.

Sao Feng, me dahlin'...she's goin' to de shore. De watahs be comfortin'... Come keep her company.

Me little Dragon, she hopes ye ( Read more... )