Wheeling Gull Isle have you come here to play jesus

Coelacanth was a lot of things, but a good patient wasn’t one of them. The pain in her shoulder and cervical spine wasn’t getting any better, and idiotically, she wondered why — but really, it was wholly and utterly her own fault. She was so focused on bustling around, keeping busy so she would not have to face her fear of exchanging words with Komodo again, that she neglected to rest and recuperate. It was more her style to work until she dropped — so, she worked. She patrolled, she fished [read: poorly], and she tended to her patients instead of herself.

A whole afternoon of fishing had yielded only five successful catches; she nudged four into one of the caches further inland, where the snowmelt from Skybowl and the shelter of trees kept the atmosphere cool and fresh. The fifth fish [try saying that five times fast!] was clasped gently betwixt her jaws as she sought out the winter raven and her pale snowchild — but the small girl was sleeping alone, safe and sound, so Seelie tracked her mother’s fresh trail with keen alacrity.

She was limping by the time she caught up with the sleek, streamlined tauhou, but her Neptune eyes were bright, and her feathered tail flagged amicably behind her. Unless the situation necessitated it, Coelacanth was not an overtly dominant female, so she approached the woman with a slightly subdued wriggle of her hips and hesitantly stretched her forequarters in a playful half-bow. The frail movement pained her, though, so she satisfied herself with a little whuff that puffed her cheeks around the fish and tossed it forward. Even this movement was drawn up slightly short due to the spasming of her trapezius and rhomboideus muscles, and she smiled a bit sheepishly.

A soft whine fluttered from her lips as she espied the other female’s somber disposition, but she preferred not to approach so soon after offering food. She didn’t want to send mixed signals by tossing the woman a meal and then encroaching upon her personal space, so she haltingly stretched out in the sand with her hips kicked out to the right and her front as straight as an Anubis sphinx. “Safe,” she whispered softly, turning to the sandstone-and-obsidian female and crinkling her eyes in a smile before blinking slowly and looking out across the sea. “Eat now,” she suggested mildly.