Wheeling Gull Isle malivore

In the morning she wasn't perfect, but she was better. Sleep was always preferable when it was an option rather than a requirement, such as when she had been knocked out on the beach. Nukilik woke up hungry and so she drifted from her resting place, clamoring out of the cave where she had been left to mend and working her way along the incline until the winter sun was beaming down upon her. 

It wasn't much warmer than the shadows she had been hiding in; but it was bright, and she squinted against the light as she observed her surroundings. A field of snow covered what would've been the lavender meadow - and further away she could spy the ocean, dark bands of blue where the tide had pulled away. It would be a few hours before the tide returned, which would give her ample opportunity to scour the beach. So she began to march towards the wet sandy areas, nose dipping to inspect the surface.

There was a hitch to her step. Her sides were still bruised. Breathing was difficult if she strained herself too much, but nothing would keep her down for long - not even something as immense as the sea. Her steps left indentations on the wet sand, peppering the area with her limited trail as she worked her way along.

her arrival here had come without much fanfare; one moment, the healer had not been here, and then she had been. she knew by the scents here that these wolves were family. some, she recognized better than others, but almost all the scents here were familiar. it is enough, and so she'd claimed a place at the base of a coastal conifer and made it her easy home. 

in her rovings of the strand, she finds herself no longer in solitude. the woman comes to a stop as she watches the stranger move along her trajectory, tracing the limp, the odd hitch of her sides. " sister -- are you alright? " comes her soft query, auds fanning forward.

Sister -- A voice calls to her across the sand, and so Nukilik stops mid-stride and turns sharply, too sharply. It is enough of a jolt to make her wince and drop her head down to compensate; an odd feeling she does not like. Once the spasm is gone she relaxes a little bit and has a moment to look around properly. Are you alright?

A soft voice spawns from a slender woman not far off; are all of the women of the island such beauties? Hua with her sea-glass eyes, Ying with her rugged body and snow-white coat. Now this one, bathed in shades of moonlight. Even from a distance Nukilik can see a family resemblance. They all have the same eyes, she thinks.

Better than yesterday. Nukilik replies, trying to sound up-beat. Her voice is straining a little bit. Rather than close the distance to the stranger herself, she settles against the wet sand - reclining for a rest - but keeps her attention focused on the other woman. The oddest part of the exchange for Nukilik is being called sister. This strikes a chord deep inside of her; she has never been a sister before.

the spasm is not unnoticed; the woman's words not entirely trusted. the cast of her features, the glint of her gaze; there is something familiar about the woman, family, perhaps. " what has happened? " she queries gently as she glides to a stop, gaze sliding over the woman's figure, searching for the obvious, the fixable. in the midst of winter, with no stores to speak of, offering aid will surely be more difficult than not.

Nukilik smiles to the woman, taking a good long look at her. Yes, she looks so much like Ying—pale, but not quite as pale. Perhaps the island is home to an entire family of beautiful women, which would be fortunate for her.

I happened. She explains, her eyes tracing from the other woman's cheekbones to her own paws, the dirt, the muddy snow flecked among the sand. Hua and Ying found me. I am still a little sore. Which explained why she was resistant to moving any further; she sank in to herself and felt a sense of ease wash over her, but it would not last. There was work to be done - a debt to repay to these sisters.