Wheeling Gull Isle bred of an airy word

Her time on the island had seen Moorhen come into her own. The permanence and selflessness of Coelacanth's love seemed to have been all the dark girl needed to blossom into a strong, independent woman who don't need no man. Especially since there were plenty of cuddles to go around on the little island paradise. She wanted for nothing, feared for nothing, and generally enjoyed her self-appointed role as island busy-body.

Speaking of busy-body-business - Moorhen was currently stalking Venninne, who had recently return from goodness knows where. Even though she knew the other woman and generally thought well of her, Moorhen still couldn't help but regard her return with suspicion. She was paranoid like that, and there were puppies running around, damn it!

Moorhen snuffled at some of Venninne's tracks and noticed that the older wolf had already run into Coelacanth at some point. This soothed the shewolf enough that she abandoned her trail and went to lie in the cool shallows of a nearby stream, where she began to lick at her paws in a fussy, indignant manner.

her wanderings around the idle were best defined by their aimlessness and her own total lack of grace, the long-legged girl had yet to adapt to the fast growth of her limbs and as such teetered and tumbled among the shore. in the odd moment she would find some delicate balance and ope across the shore in movement approaching grace, before a shorebird, or pretty shell, would distract and have her miss a step. 

the trickle of water that was not sea and the scent of one of her family had her wheel and make haste towards the stream. she came across Moorhen quickly enough, and permanent curve of her muzzle widened in an airy smile. "moor!" she reached forward to plant a plaintive kiss on the woman's muzzle, asking quickly, "please play with me, please?" she included two pleases for good measure, bending into a play bow as chestnut gaze sought moorhen's.

Most days, Moorhen forgot that Fern and Mur were not Coelacanth's by birth. She did not have the same luxury for her own origins, although she knew they had all been taught that she was their sister. She supposed that the Shadow was her mother figure, so these titles made sense. Besides, she wasn't one to sneer at a family when it fell right into her lap.

Her tail wagged idly when Fern approached, but honestly, she was still in a bit of a snit. Enough that, instead of immediately giving in to the girl's plea, Moorhen instead fixed her with a gimlet stare, contemplating her options. Only one seemed viable, right then.

"I am hunger," she said with a yawn, "Play later. Eat now."

And then, with a mischievous glint in her mahogany gaze, she swarmed forward out of the stream and aimed a playful bite at Fern's hock. "I will eat you," she said with another wag of her tail, taking a moment to be sure Fern understood the game. "Flee in terror!"