Wheeling Gull Isle a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied

There were many bodies present. Some she recognized from the beach plainly, others which took some investigation before she clued in to where she'd seen them; but they were all survivors. None which needed her at the moment save for the dark half-wolf, so to her flank she moved and lingered. One by one words were spoken; Parthenos found that the more she listened, the more familiar the words did sound. Why she would know this language perplexed her. But yes! The wolves began to introduce themselves (or so she had gleaned), and sometimes she would pick up a word here or there, and her mind would blossom with knowledge. Yet still, she could not speak the words; a few times during quiet moments she opened her mouth and expected the flowing syllables to fall from it like magic, but her tongue did not know how to make the shapes and her voice remained stagnant within her.

At the very least she could say her name - the name that had crashed through her mind when she'd woken on the island alone. Sounding it out in her head took a moment, but eventually (once the others had introduced themselves and continued conversation), she mustered a decidedly meek introduction of: Par-tenn-oaks, which might've been missed by bodies not immediately near.