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

Tagging those she interacted with directly~

Neptune eyes flitted uneasily from figure to figure as Coelacanth’s rose blush tongue darted out to sweep nervously across her lips. An airy, toneless whine stirred within the hollow confines of her throat as the tension in the air began to thicken, and an odd pang stung her heart at the sight of Aria, settled tight and close at Komodo’s side. It was a place that Seelie had often occupied — her tiny body fit so neatly against the Earthstalker’s, a fact she had learned as a motherless puppy! — and seeing another woman in it sparked a flicker of jealousy and fear that she didn’t fully understand. She listened attentively as the seawolves introduced themselves one by one, her attention falling favorably upon @King as he turned a plaintive gaze toward her. All will be well, she sought to convey, her feathered tail brushing lightly against her spindly hocks as her eyes half-closed, arching in a doggish smile.

Tufted ears perked in surprise as @Parthenos drew near, lingering at Seelie’s flank — but the atramentous sheepdog had long begun to view the quiet, solemn woman as an ally of sorts. Parthenos offered no threat and was largely as quiet as the sheepdog herself. Content, Seelie allowed the older female’s approach. She maintained a few inches of distance but crossed it with a timorous sway of her tapered muzzle; if the pearl allowed, Seelie would whuff softly at her shoulder, the breath from her mouth teasing at the silvern tendrils.

Coelacanth listened quietly as Komodo addressed the group as a whole, her tufted ears flattening at the succinct greeting that rang false in the marrow of her bones; but her bright cerulean eyes were downturned, and the spark of mutiny within them carefully concealed. She was a submissive thing, and this alone made her question her own judgment. If Komodo truly believed that they would all be family, maybe she was hard-hearted for believing otherwise — but her interest, as flighty as her paws, was piqued by the dark male with the vivid, fiery eyes whose relationship with Aria was a tumultuous, curious welter. Perhaps her eyes lingered a little longer on him — certainly, her finely-sculpted head tipped to the side in eloquent curiosity. She didn’t know what to make of his sudden nonchalance.

She was still watching @Constantine when a familiar and beloved voice sliced through her thoughts as neatly as a bluefish’s fangs. “I’m Ixchel Corten,” came the calico tiamat’s smooth, decisive timbre, and Seelie’s head whipped around so hard that her tufted ears snapped forward with an audible flap! She was reasonably sure that she could say @Ixchel’s name now; Komodo had been working hard to help the little wolfdog with consonant sounds. It wasn’t the time or place, though, so she conveyed her joy at seeing Ixchel with the fluidity of her body. She bounded forward, just a pace, still keeping her distance from the throng at large; and she tossed her head like a spirited filly, whimpering in excitement.

It was at this moment that Coelacanth decided to reveal her own secret. It wasn’t for Stockholm’s sake that she had kept him segregated from the group — it was her own selfishness that had driven her to do so. He belonged to her. She was not a cold and calculating creature, but for reasons yet unbeknownst to her, she didn’t want to share the Gampr with her stranded counterparts. She turned just as Ixchel claimed Komodo’s attention and disappeared into the underbrush, whuffing softly to the heavy-limbed guardian in an invitation to follow her. Her head tipped entreatingly to the side as she backed up a few paces, darting forward to graze one shaggy paw with the tip of her nose. “Come with me, please?”