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

Not unlike her younger brother, Ixchel had taken unspoken offense to Komodo’s presumptuous summons. Perhaps it was in their blood -- a fire for rebellion still burning bright all the way from Nootka Sound -- but their approach to the circumstance was entirely different. This, by contrast, could have something to do with their respective genders. The adopted Corten felt indebted to no wolf, and her now singular desire to procreate led her to realize she would do anything now to claim her birthright; as a natural islander, and a woman with a healthy uterus.

She followed the call readily and stiff-legged, arriving in time to observe the Earthstalker address the accumulated as family. A sentiment she knew befitted his particular values. All of them introduced themselves, and Ixchel remained silent on her perch -- out of sight and biding her time. She was most surprised to see Coelacanth among those collected. Komodo had mentioned seeing her, but the odds of finding the hybridized seabird here felt almost astronomical.

Watching the Groenendael, a surge of maternal instinct solidified her decision to move forward.

When the conversation turned to hunting, the short Amazonian descended, and emerged proudly through the crowd with a casually lifted tail and assertively pressed ears. She looked more self-assured than arrogant, though the opinion of her body language was largely up to those who observed it. Particularly, there was no hostility in her -- only certainty.

I’m Ixchel Corten, she announced, pressing through the crowd to mingle somewhere near the center. A former midwife and pack defender -- native to such islands, and an advocate for the sea. Some of you know me, her soft tropical eyes turned to the other Corten, sweet Coelacanth, then to Komodo, Aria, and Faeryn; and a lot of you don’t. She bravely met the eye of each stranger, recalling their names as best she could as she did so. Her gaze lingered favorably on Constantine, but the pause was negligible to the untrained eye.

But I come posing an important question that none of you have seemed yet to voice... Her tail wagged slowly back and forth, a pretty and cordial banner. Who is it that leads us? She looked squarely at Komodo, a delightfully sly challenge in her twinkling eye. Is it you, Earthstalker?