Wheeling Gull Isle the voice of rage and ruin

He continues to speak, and the tone of his voice is light, hardly antagonistic. She cannot help but relax as he continues, whether she understands or not. He has not attacked her; likely too tired from his arrival, or simply not intending her harm. Parthenos feels the cushion of his very presence and sinks within it, accepting that she is not alone and that he merely wishes to investigate. When he notices her wound and closes the gap she does freeze, stiffening, but does not back away this time - and he motions to her head, murmuring something just as incomprehensible as the rest. With the stranger being so close, she takes a chance - and directs her snout towards him, reaching and sniffing, gathering information about himself and his companions as best she can. There is the heavy stink of the ocean which, somehow, she finds more comforting than terrifying; this is yet another obscure thing to Parthenos. She too has been delivered here to the island, not in the same storm but in a similar manner. Yet she is not afraid of the sea? The comfort the scent brings helps the situation - she slowly sags towards the man, leaning against him with a small pressure, as if her fear from earlier has been eradicated.