Galleon sat at the entrance to Hydra. A hot wind rustling her fin. She'd had enough of the rest of the caves. It was exhausting, painful. Not just the walk here from the tournament, which had been its own trial. But everything else. Her hatching in freezing Ursa. Her brief stints in whatever patches of sand she found. And least of all her trials in the deathmatch. Galleon tightened her jaw, and the marred skin beneath pulled in warning. She exhaled, feelings the sensation of air move through her fin.

It felt harder to push out, the scar tissue restricting the airway of her fin. To her surprise her dorsal fin had grown back, yet it was still mangled. Despite all this, Galleon was...content as she took in Hydra. No, more than that. She felt an overwhelming sense of...home. The rough grains of sand were pleasant on her scutes and skin, with none of the hidden wetness beach sand possessed, nor the mustiness of Orion's fight pit sands.

She sighed, breathing in deeply. The hot wind carried the earthy scent of heat-baked sand and dust, punctuated by the faintest whiff of salt. All of it felt so new, yet so natural. This play was so..tranquil. The only sound an occasional gust of wind. The sky a flat dusty color. Though she couldn't shake the feeling that the sky was the wrong color. Yet nothing told her what color, exactly it should be. Despite her one misgiving, There was nothing insidious here.

She just hoped this place had food...somewhere, at least. Galleon pushed herself from the boundary of tunnel P, sliding into the rapidly deepening sand as smoothly as if it were water. In a moment of joy she dove, gathering speed to breach from a dube in a short jump. As she flew, she laughed, gravelly.

"When I speak"
When I think