Essek could hear the man singing, it was really quite avoidable; the sun was starting to set and he was sitting crosslegged on a blanket a few feet away from waves. As long as he slid lotion over himself, he was very good about not truly burning-- it was his eyes that held the sensitivity and there were shades that blocked out the unforgiving rays-- colouring them shades of idyllic blue.

Out of his periphery, he saw a gaggle of crabs start to run after the halfling.

Like the pied-piper of a fish broil.

Should he call out that Scanlan was about to have company? Or should he just sit here and wait, that was the question here.