𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄

The tidepools are colder today than they were yesterday.

Hadar’s hooves are gently splashed by the rippling water, wetting his ankles, making a slight shiver run up his spine. He adjusts slightly, paying no mind to the gentle shhhk sound his hardened carapace emits as his weight shifts from his right leg to his left. The gold shell in his palm is smooth, and he doesn’t dare handle it more than he already has. His claws always pose a risk to the soft shells and driftwood he finds here on the shores and in the pools, and he keeps a little fishing net with him to scoop them up just to make sure they remain unscratched.

The shell is carefully deposited into the little pouch he carries with him, hearing it clink gently against the several silver shells already inside, remnants from the last week or so of foraging around the area. He’s satisfied. The other bag he’s holding onto houses a few spiked shells and the single swirled tun shell he’s managed to find in the cavern pools in the last week. He’s not sure what he’ll do with these shells, he already has several on display in his home. Maybe he’ll add them to the crystal fragment bucket outside his house, he’s not sure.

“Hello!”

The sudden voice startles Hadar from his thoughts, his head snapping up to look for the source. He finds it quickly. A symprite is making their way over towards him, arm raised and waving in a friendly gesture. He takes notice of the guitar slung over their back.

An awkward wave is given, Hadar not too used to interacting with others, not knowing how energetic he should be, or not at all. He clears his throat several times, already knowing that his voice is going to sound crumbly and rusty from the little use it’s getting in his life.

They make their way over to him, their dainty little hooves half-sunken into the sand. “Hi, sorry to bother you!” they begin, brushing some of their fluffy hair out of their face, “I’m not from around here, I was just wanting to know, are these shores privately owned?”

Hadar simply blinks at them a few times, trying to understand what they meant. “Privately.. owned?” he finally manages to get out, his voice coarse and uncomfortable.

The other symprite doesn’t seem to notice his discomfort, and if they do, they don’t show it. “Yeah I mean like, are you allowed to forage and collect shells here?”

Oh. Why didn’t they just say that to begin with? Hadar has never really understood why people can’t just be direct about things.

He nods once, and then hands his large bag in their direction. “That is what I do here. These are shells I have found here, mostly. You can find other things, too.”

The stranger peeps into the bag before handing it back, seemingly delighted with the shells it contains. “Oh, this is just perfect. Would you mind showing me some of the better spots to look? Of course I understand if they’re secrets and you’d rather keep them for yourself, I just know that tidepools can be fragile little ecosystems and I’d rather avoid ones that shouldn’t be disturbed.”

It’s rare that symprites take time out of their day to care about the environment. This stranger is correct. There are numerous tidepools out here that Hadar avoids because of how new and fresh they are, and even some older ones due to their fragility. So he just nods again, tucking his bag under his arm. “I will show you.”

“Thank you so so much!” The symprite’s large tail waves happily behind them as they fairly trot next to Hadar as he walks over to a different cluster of tidepools. “Oh, I’m Zazie, by the way! Should have introduced myself earlier.”

“Mm. Hadar.” It’s not the best introduction, hell it’s barely an introduction at all. But it is what it is.

“Hadar, huh? Nice to meet you!”