The man named Chakliux kindly opened for her his harvest. Lujing felt compelled to swallow the shells whole in spite of her better judgment, now that the salty bewilderment had faded and left her with hollow hunger. But she stilled herself out of cautious respect, waiting for Chakliux to take the first bite. Food was food; she decided not to bother herself with the name of the bounty. The traders of the sand had once arrived at the salt empire and taught her a little common, perhaps the name of the food, too - but it no longer sat in the daze of her memories.

She watched with careful observation that slowly became confusion as Chakliux etched symbols into the sand. Three lines. An odd shape that dipped down, then up again. The man spoke of it as if it were a location of sorts - perhaps this was his best attempt at illustrating a place of importance. A home, even. He murmured something she could not quite catch, but then he declared himself a "seal hunter", and some of the sense began to reach her reasoning.

Lujing did not fully understand his pointing towards the inland, but knew his intent to go to that place he had drawn for her. For a moment she lingered in thought, asking herself the difficult question - could she leave the sea? But again, where else would welcome her in this foreign land? Who else was there to trust? The sea, she could find later; if leaving meant uncertainty, then so did staying.

At last the man ate a sliver of the shell meat, and she had to hold some primal part of herself back in order to not devour everything in a savage bite or two. Instead, she took one shell and savored it slowly, as he did, appreciating the nourishment this stranger had labored to give to her. When she finished half the shell, she gestured vaguely to the shape Chakliux had drawn. Your home? ... Safe? Is that place safe?