Wheeling Gull Isle if you look away, the stars will know, and they will not be able to help you.

Komodo made for a forlorn audience to the scene that played out. The nameless one plucked each babe from the dead mother’s breast and placed it at her own. The one with a fearsome glasgow grin fled, and Coelacanth took to feeble attempts to wake the deceased. Stockholm arrived. The Angakkuq found that, for a moment, he was frozen in time, watching as the emotions and energy of their gathering became both tumultuous and melancholy. Wouldn’t the gods have foretold of an event such as this, and give him the means to avoid it? Did he purchase nothing with his piety? Surely, he might have been able to do something, had he known in time — preferably, when she first arrived at the island. Now that the final threshold of death had been crossed, there was no un-crossing it. 

What had he done to cause the gods and archangels to shut him out?

The two living babes were breathing and feeding and seemed to be lively in spite of their circumstances, so Komodo turned his attention to the emotional distress projecting from the Seelie and her fallen charge. The angakkuq, relying fully on his extensive experience as a medicine man, approached her boldly — but spoke kindly. There was no need for hardness here. “Y'have succeeded in makin' Undersea uh safe haven fur all,” the man guided her, hopefully stewarding the lasting implications on this event; grief was to be expected, but this might not be the big misfortune that they all assumed it to be. All souls exist on earth for a time, but physical bodies did not live forever. It had happened before, and it would happen again, and they should be thankful they had the resources to help the orphans survive.

“She chose yew; entrusted them to yew.” The man said, more quietly. Then, to Reigi and Stockholm, “…tuh all uh' us.” With his nose, if she allowed it, Komodo would attempt to dry her silkstained cheeks and clean away the tears. It was brazen — perhaps too brazen, given that it was in full sight of the girl’s mate, and was Stockholm’s place anyways — but it was an act of solidarity and heedless support, rather than something carnal, as it might have once been. Without her hormones raging, and with this unspeakable tragedy to draw them together, it felt as everything were as right as rain between them. Surely, it was not, but that’s how it felt at the moment, drawn together in unity over their grief.