Wheeling Gull Isle just you and the moon on my skin

It has been a few days since Hemlock had given birth and Witchdoctor’s silence about it, his lack of pushing to see his ( proxy ) spawns is far from selfless. He does not doubt that Hemlock would tear his face off if he gives her the reason to but he is perfectly happy with guarding the den from those that would dare intrude so he can figure out what he’s supposed to do with them. With this. To figure out if he even cares. He’s still a bit disoriented, his compass is wonky and his timeline is a chaotic tangle of knots. He’s still trying to figure out what happened to Blackrock Depths and it’s handsome Leviathan had disappeared to and attempting to puzzle out what Arturo had done while he’d been dormant. Of course, Witchdoctor is capable of putting two and two together ( even with questionable sanity ) and has pieced together a rough crime map: founded a pack, took two wives one of which is dead and whose death was his what had woken him from slumber ( he’d really have to thank her someday if he met her in the afterlife ), had spawns the girl …and that boy ( their names escape him ) and knocked up Hemlock and then other things had happened, Witchdoctor killed the gangster, took over and they relocated to the coast. A lot remains unknown and missing and disjointed.

And it’s not as if Witchdoctor can just ask. No doubt, by now, those close to the gangster had begun to realize that something was …all wrong. This night the voices are blissfully muted. Never silent of course …he’d almost fear silence in his mind but as Witchdoctor’s discovered Hemlock is a “silencer” — like a soundproof wall that …well doesn’t exactly silence them but gives him a reprieve. He’s never sure what will trigger them, what will quiet them. It’s a bit of a lottery. She’s standing at the mouth of her birthing den: a small sun: blazing fiery colors against the greedy, grasping shadows of the night, illuminated by the softened glow of the large moon where it hangs overhead. Witchdoctor takes the opportunity in the silence to study her with new eyes …well, old eyes but new personality, new opinions, and new thoughts. spoilers!

Witchdoctor’s ears pivot as she breaks the silence between them, after leading with a soft sigh and inquires if he wants to see them. He knows who she means: his spawn. Arturo’s spawn? But were they? It was the same body that aided in their conception and they would never know the gangster ( except perhaps in stories but such a thing he would not partake in because who wants to have their previous self put on some kind of pedestal when you know this edition is so much better? ) so therefore they were Witchdoctor’s children more than they would ever be Arturo’s. “Yes.” The Witchdoctor answers because he’s curious about them and she’s offering.