Wheeling Gull Isle four in the morning

Stockholm had never been terribly close with his family; not the way Seelie was with hers at least. When he was old enough to be on his own he had been sent out into the fields to guard a herd, his brothers had been sent elsewhere to do the same. The job came before family back then. And he always faithfully held his post. In the cold months when the herds came in closer to the human villages he would sometimes have the opportunity to cross paths with his brothers or his father, but it was always a brief interaction, and never punctuated with the kind of affection he had seen shared among Seelie’s brethren. Still, he did care for them. He understood the ties of family and the importance of it.

The connection between Seelie and her sandy-hued twin was particularly strong, he could see that from the moment he first saw them interact. This must feel like losing a part of herself all over again, and so soon after being reunited. It pains him to know she will suffer the heartbreak, even if they would return again soon.

He lingers in the distance, lets Seelie say her goodbyes, and gives her time alone to process the initial waves of the storm that batter at her heart. Only when the quartet is gone from sight, only when he can bear the thought of her being alone no longer does he ascend the caldera to the top of the Skybowl to stand beside her. Gaze on the horizon, he stands quiet and still for a long moment before moving to brush his side against hers, turning his head to lay it across her shoulders, his breath warm against her neck. He says nothing, but tries to convey it with his presence. I’m here. I will always be here for you. It will be alright.