Wheeling Gull Isle give thanks to the deep

located at the tide pools. for @Oleander. set 5/12, afternoon.

having been raised by the sea and moon, tyche was no stranger to the abundant crops that could be found within tide pools. with the water washed out, the deep offered its creatures to fill the bellies of land animals. it was here that tyche found herself this afternoon, nibbling on the small critters that were afforded to her. their small, soft bones shattered in her mouth, and the siren gave thanks to them for nourishing her.

He liked to think he was getting better at island living. Especially when it came to gathering things to eat. So far, he hadn't been bold enough to try fishing. Occasionally one got stuck when the tide rolled back out. Those were the best times to scout for food.

It seemed he wasn't the only one looking to have his fill of washed up aquatic life. A stranger was there already picking away at something.

Hey! Find something good?

tyche whirled around, fangs bared when she heard the baritone voice of the male. she disliked being snuck up on, and she loathed being snuck up on by the lesser sex. the siren had never cared for males, although she tolerated them when needed. this was not one of those times. instead, she stared him down, lips curled back and the hair along her spine reaching for the skies above. she spoke no words to portray her message.

Not once had someone turned on him like that. Well, not once here on the island. Maybe his mom or dad had when he'd been too rowdy or if he bit them too hard playing. So it inspired some sort of childish fear.

His ears adjusted to flatten against his skull as he crouched closer to the earth. Tail dangled nervously between his ankles as his tongue poked out just slightly from his teeth.

What the hell was wrong with her? Sour seafood?

he pleasantly surprised her with a display of submission, and tyche collected herself. lips covered her teeth once more, and her spine smoothed back into its normal state. her eyes transformed from fierce to mildly annoyed, but at least he had learned his lesson. Όχι ένας ανόητος., she concluded, more for herself than for him, since she assumed he would not understand.

learn manners quick, she said, licking her lips. live long this way. he had the potential to make a consort when the time was right. what call you? she asked. it was important to know his name so she might call upon him later.

It had been a fierce display to witness as she morphed from a blazing fire to simmering embers of emotion.

Manners quick. Right. Maybe he had surprised her and well, he had sort of been freaked when Ruvik did it to him. She had a right to be displeased with him. Still he hung relatively similar in position even as she smoothed out some. A sharing of names felt like a good place to start this off.

Oleander. Offered with a little bit more of a friendly sway to his tail. Patiently he waited for her to return a name as he...just sort of figured she would.

oh-leen-der, she repeated. the name was not one she had heard before, and it tasted strange upon her lips. my name tyche. she did not want to drive into him too much familiarity, but a little can sometimes teach the good ones that she was not a monster. in order for the consorts to be effective, they needed to have some hope, she had been taught.

how long in yoo-eh-long? she asked. perhaps he simply had not learned his path. perhaps he was too young to this pack to know it. if so, she would be happy to teach, to correct.

Ollie, if that's better. He hadn't been called that in a long while, but maybe it'd flow smoother than his full name. Just like how her name seemed a bit odd to him. Not that he would say such a thing because he could still pronounce it. It just wasn't anything he had heard before.

He gave a soft hum of thought at her question. Few weeks? Hadn't been more than a month. As the islanders went, he wasn't native to this place like a few others.