Wheeling Gull Isle racharra sees a ghost

though she's lowered her crown, curiosity leads her to watching the boy as he paces around his own home. its only when their gazes meet again that racharra avoids it with a quick jerk of her head. she closes them, just for a moment, before his voice breaks the silence between them, and one more peek at him is stolen.

judah. she couldn't help but smile, and the nebet felt silly for it.
but the girl hesitates before extending her hand. she is still a lady, while not born from red sand she's learned to embrace it. normally she would have to introduce her title if the smell of desert alone wasn't enough of an entourage. had the ocean washed it away? if so, she'd have to take advantage.

i'm racharra. the girl says finally, closing her eyes. she didn't know when she had fallen asleep after this.