The sea crashed angrily against the rocky shore, its waves churned into white foam by the blustery winds of spring.

You and the Mute were scouring the rocks for mollusks, your baskets half-full already.

The clouds hung low in the sky, casting the world in a gloom as grey as the sea.

Your fingers ached from the cold as you pried open a stubborn shell, the cold seawater numbing them despite your callouses.

The Mute was working a few yards down the beach, his large form crouched amongst the rocks.

You poured a little water over the mollusk, trying to flush it out of its hiding spot. But the slippery mollusk slipped from your fingers, and you could only watch as it retreated back into its home.

"Curse you!"

You muttered in Irish, shaking your hand in frustration.

After a while, you and the Mute had gathered a few mollusks between you, and you both sat on the shore, the wind tousling your hair and making you shiver.

You looked down at the mollusk resting in your palm, its pearly interior glistening in the dim light.

The weight of the mollusk felt heavier than you expected, its size impressive for something so unassuming.

You ran your thumb over its surface, feeling the smoothness of the shell.

You looked over at the Mute, the sound of the waves filling the air between you as you asked.

"What do you suppose the first man who ate these was thinking of?"

The Mute didn't respond, as he never did.

He didn't even look up, his gaze seemingly fixed on the sea stretching out before the two of you.

"Brother Cathel said they have no souls. He said that animals were only put on earth to clothe..and feed us."

You stopped, noticing the Mute's gaze drift elsewhere.

His expression was blank, but you could almost see the wheels turning behind his dark eyes.

It was as if he was processing your words, but he remained silent, giving no indication of whether he agreed with the sentiment or not.

The Mute stood a tall, broad figure, his big, burly frame built from years of hard work on the farm. His hair was a mass of tangled curls, and his face was hidden behind a messy beard.

Despite his rough exterior, there was a calmness about him that made him seem almost gentle.

He had never spoken a word since you had met him, but somehow, you had developed a deep connection to him, a bond that seemed almost inexplicable.

Something about his quiet presence made you feel safe and understood.

"That any creature that does not serve us is our enemy." You continued, as you looked at the Mute.

No hint of emotion flitted across his features, his expression remaining stoic and unreadable.

It was as if he was made of stone, unable to give away his thoughts or feelings even under your direct gaze.