The little dragon prodded at the strange torch doubtfully before eventually gathering it in her paw. Moving to the back shelves with a frown of thought, she peered around until a gleam caught her eye. Round, he’d said? She ventured near the strange object, noting the gold swirls. Yay. Carefully picking it up and tucking it under her foreleg, she held the torch between her teeth and ambled back.
“Did you fi-” He stopped midway through his question when he saw Hama coming back with the item in hand. “Oh! Excellent!”
He let the dragonet step into the palm of his talons and accepted the glass ball from her before setting her on a low ledge she could easily get down from on her own accord.
Now that Tamatoa had his eyes on the item and carefully turned it over in his paws he remembered what it was called. “MEMORY ORB! THAT’S IT!” he exclaimed, his loud voice ricocheting off the walls like a thunderclap. And as he ever-so-slightly tapped the side of the animus-touched object a bitter smirk worked its way into his expression. He added to himself, “Perhaps now those little termites will see what I’m talking about.” Though he did have another thought other than that. Perhaps it was even more important.
Before that, however, he gave Hama a pleasant smile. “Thank you, kid,” he said gratefully, tapping her wing with the edge of his good one with a surprising amount of careful ease so it wouldn’t knock her over by mistake. “That was a big help. If there’s anything I can do for you in return, just say so.”
