GONNA SHORT-CIRCUIT MY IDENTITY [ trespasser ]

[roman]

comically large ears twitch at the sound of amunet's arrival. assuming she picked up the hermit crab earlier, she now gently returns him to amaranth with a pout as she clacks her teeth together in disappointment--emitting some sort of low-frequency sound that sounds like the monstrous version of a child whining after getting scolded. a trespasser? are they not all trespassers then? fish has lived in this swamp for many decades, all alone in the mud and the muck. the residents of tanglewood are not the only ones to move into her territory without invitation. fish never really gave them a hard time about it, save for the occasional snack at the expense of a lone cat who wandered too far out on their own. "trespassers can be friends too," mutters the creature beneath her breath indignantly. why must there be so many rules? fish does not like rules at all. even so, she dramatically retreats behind beck and amunet, making sure to stomp her feet in the mud to convey her annoyance. fish wants to play with the strange salt-smelling girl and her hermit crab. why do the old people always have to ruin her fun?