Most of the hels went for the offal that Sol discarded, but one - smaller than the rest and unlikely to get anything from the fracas currently happening nearby - kept a beady black eye on the girl and the merman and hopped closer, cocking its head to the side and making a curious noise unlike the more raucous battlecries of its cousins.
Hadama eyed it stoically, closing his fingers more firmly around the conch flesh in his hand as he nodded acknowledgment of Soleil's observation. She looked old enough to have experienced the world's unfairness firsthand, and he didn't doubt her sincerity or attempt to argue otherwise. "I have not," he admitted serenely of her question.
When it was clear that she enjoyed the treat, Hadama offered her the larger chunk and his knife so she could cut her own slices while they spoke. The inquisitive hel hopped a little closer and then fluttered its wings as if considering the jump to Soleil's shoulder. "Indeed," he confirmed to her guess about why the shells were normally broken. "The meat is dense. And it is often cut into a seaweed salad. Or a landgreen salad," he added after a moment's consideration of the different culinary schools in Torchline. "So one is enough." Usually. Though the large mermanta could easily consume two in one sitting.
He inclined his head in acceptance of her gratitude, emerald eyes sparkling with pleasure at her courtesy - and watching the hel as it gathered itself for a hop to its new, human perch. "There is a benefit to them." He nodded once towards the bold little bird. "If they land on you."
Hadama eyed it stoically, closing his fingers more firmly around the conch flesh in his hand as he nodded acknowledgment of Soleil's observation. She looked old enough to have experienced the world's unfairness firsthand, and he didn't doubt her sincerity or attempt to argue otherwise. "I have not," he admitted serenely of her question.
When it was clear that she enjoyed the treat, Hadama offered her the larger chunk and his knife so she could cut her own slices while they spoke. The inquisitive hel hopped a little closer and then fluttered its wings as if considering the jump to Soleil's shoulder. "Indeed," he confirmed to her guess about why the shells were normally broken. "The meat is dense. And it is often cut into a seaweed salad. Or a landgreen salad," he added after a moment's consideration of the different culinary schools in Torchline. "So one is enough." Usually. Though the large mermanta could easily consume two in one sitting.
He inclined his head in acceptance of her gratitude, emerald eyes sparkling with pleasure at her courtesy - and watching the hel as it gathered itself for a hop to its new, human perch. "There is a benefit to them." He nodded once towards the bold little bird. "If they land on you."
