Wheeling Gull Isle you sleep rather soundly for a murderer
those whom life does not cure, death will.
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#1
All Welcome 
i think if i understand what i read right, he is on the strand (neutral territory?). permission to stalk/track maegi from her respective player.

days had gone by since he had seen the girl.. and still, his memory of her was a vision - uncorrupted, and so very carefully recalled. he thought of relmyna's sharp rebuke, and how in the flash of her teeth the word of his unraveling had been promised. he would not see her for some time.

but maegi... iliksis envisioned he would see her quite soon; like a bedraggled shadow the man stood along the pounding shore, peering in at that sea-misted island, where the scent of the girl had gone and been swept away by scouring winds.
warning: PG-18+ explicit content.
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she roves the soft beaches with no set goal, keenly aware that she is maybe not supposed to be there but eager all the same for new discoveries. she clutches in her maw a knotted piece of driftwood, spat up by the tempestuous sea some time recently and carried now proudly. she will add it to her collection, growing steadily between two boulders near Seelie's den. perhaps she'll show Mur.

a shell has her drop the driftwood suddenly, pulling instead the pristine, iridescent thing into her clutches. gaze finds next and suddenly the dark man; and to him, she trots proudly. she is a child of the Isle, and all on it are her family. beelining toward him, halting only once she comes near. dropping the shell on the ground, she proclaims,  "look!" she beams and waits then for his option.
♢♢♢
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Ooc — Belle
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#3
Hope you don't mind me sliding in here :P

If any knew Faeryn, they'd be aware of her wandering tendancies. Rarely would she depart from the island's security,but one could often spy her dancing delicately around the edges of the island for no particular reason. She savoured the company of others, but still did she find herself pondering the goings of her past, sometimes even attempting feebly to remember whatever it was that she had forgotten - it was best to do such in her lonesome.

Today, however, the lithe dove found herself in the presence of... who was he? The small girl approaching held the familiar scent of the island and its inhabitants, but the strange man did not. Fae was aware that this alone was not necessarily worth any alarm bells, for most were welcome here, but that did not mean she could place her trust in him, either. Fae observed from afar, slight breeze ruffling her enchanting coat of blue - Fern approached with no hesitance. Perhaps she knew him?

Fae decided this was worth investigating. The svelte woman strolled gracefully over, drifting toward them like a delicate sea nymph, ears tipping forward upon her head. Only when close enough to speak did she, chuffing in greeting and allowing a small smile to adopt her feminine features. Hopefully this man wanted no harm.
I see quiet nights,
poured over ice
Loner
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Ooc — mixedhearts
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#4
It was not her place to question the Shadow's leadership practices, so Moorhen usually kept her concerns to herself. She just didn't trust easily, and she regarded even relatively familiar wolves with no small amount of suspicion. @Sockeye and @Steelhead had been receiving the brunt of her squinty-eyed stares, but a patrol that day had given her neuroses a new target.

The tall woman draw nearer when she saw Fern moving toward the strange man. She relaxed only marginally when Faeryn entered the scene, her legs still stiff and spine still bristling as she approached the trio and stood a short distance away, mindful of the Shadow's desires when it came to defending the borders.
those whom life does not cure, death will.
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the greyed man was met by a girl - yet not the girl he wanted. he watched the little lamb stride closer, her features bright, her eyes unstung by injustice. he could change that - he wanted to change that. his solemn gaze inspected the shell; and then more obscenely, the girl.

he became aware whilst panning over the young child's body the presence of another wolf - or two. one seemed pleasant, yet the other exuded a churlish air. the man straightened his posture under their collective stares, and nudged the shell with a slim claw as if entreating play. "where is the girl?" he asked of the group, his posture neutral yet contained lest they turn aggressive.
warning: PG-18+ explicit content.