on echo beach + joining

An uneasy grin sprung upon his mug as the first of the Sunhaven-folk loomed near, though he was pleased to discover that the elegant she wasn’t one of the few from before. Her minted voice was touched with a thick accent, one that sounded European; which was great, as Wendell was the same, except his dialect was deriving from the British Isles. Names were everlastingly important, so to hear that the pup’s handle was that of some ancient god gave the wolverine a hunch that she’d be doing some cool magic tricks in time. As for his title- "My name’s Wendell, Wendell Harrowsmith, pleasure t’ meet you," he’d introduce in a chuffed manner.

Then, along came a somewhat familiar face, nigh imposing the collywobbles onto him. If the feline-shark hybrid, which by the by, sounds terrifying in a fight, could recount what had transpired that day, there was a chance that drama ensued. That didn’t seem to be the case. Actually, it appeared that he was yet again in the presence of another bearer of a Euro-sounding accent, this time one being recognizable as a concrete Scottish jargon. ”Appreciate the welcome, Monroe,” the mammal began, relying on the mutant hearing his name beforehand, ”I don’t remember you by name, but I think I remember you from... another time.”