Wheeling Gull Isle when she strut, she got (body and blood)

MISSED YALL

she feels she has blossomed overnight, no longer a stumbling baby but a creature of grace and sharp wit, a nearly-adult (close enough!). the island has been good to her -- she walks by the sea, occasionally collecting baubles, mostly just enjoying the sand and the sea. she explores the island, learning flora from @Hemlock and honing her sense of superiority. 

today she is b o r e d. her brother is -- she can't be bothered to keep track, her mother is not nearby to entertain her, the island is busy with the children, the new children, their charm stealing her rightful place as most important. bah. she supposes she doesn't mind them (enjoys, even, tending to them, though she'd never admit it). but what is she supposed to do to keep herself busy? 

the ocean, sadly, has no answers for her today.

Her experience with Rokig had endeared her to the beach, if only slightly, and Maegi found herself on the sand more often, marveling at the feel of it under her paws. Ever-changing. . .it shifted so much more than dirt, and unlike dirt, which turned to mud in the rain--sand, when wet, hardened further, creating a flat, smooth surface good for chasing waves.

Maegi giggled as one such wave hit her in the face, shaking her head and spitting out a mouthful of seawater. As she blinked the droplets from her eyes, she noticed a girl not so far away, walking along the beach. Upon closer inspection, it looked to be a girl about her age, and her ears perked in surprise and a sort of delight, her slightly-wet tail wagging as she trotted awkwardly toward the girl.

"Hi," she said, a smile--for once--coming to her normally sullen face. "I haven't seen you around before." Her eyes raked over the other's pelt, a beautiful reddish-gold. It reminded her of Indra. She felt a small pain in her stomach, knowing that she'd left no word with the woman who had given her food and shelter, if only for a little bit. "I'm Maegi," she offered.

yaaay i wanted them to meet!

reed knew of the youngest children but not of the white-furred girl around her age. having never been around children her age -- besides her brother, and he hardly counts! -- reed finds herself at an impasse when confronted by this particular reality. she's already been usurped as the baby princess of the island but she doesn't need more competition. 

though, she thinks, giving her a critical once over, at least she is still the prettiest. "reed, hemlock's daughter," the fearghal replies smoothly, canting her regal head. "i've not seen you either," she continues, "are you new around here?" of course she knows the answer to that -- she's only lived here (most of) her life. and she's certainly never seen the strange girl around -- she would remember a mug like that. now that the initial shock of seeing her scarred face has faded, reed has to admit it imbues this maegi with an intrigue. her strange, twisted paw, her startling open jaw... the burgeoning medic in her is fascinated. her inborn sense of decorum prevents her from commenting on it (yet) or even looking for too long, her gaze instead settled, pleasantly neutrally, on her face as a whole. for now.

Maegi's smile diminished as she noticed Reed looking at her, feeling suddenly self-conscious, and slightly snappy with the need to defend herself. Still, she gave a curt nod, wagging her tail. "Yeah, I'm new," she said, though that really didn't need to be explained, and she knew it as well as Reed. But pleasantries were pleasantries.

"Who's Hemlock? Is that, uh, is that the brawny guy? Kinda brown and black?" she asked, remembering the man who'd burst onto the scene of the young mother's death. "Weird accent?"

It occurred to her that she was not very familiar at all with the denizens of the island, and she felt bad about it. In Blackfeather, she had played an active role in greeting all the newcomers, learning their story and sharing the tales of her family, her religion. Without any referential knowledge, she felt completely at a loss, thrown off kilter by this impressive, seemingly worldly girl.

her expression pinches slightly at the question, unimpressed -- only for her to bristle up. the brawny guy? admittedly she's not paid close enough attention to the island's inhabitants to know who that is. perhaps he's a lovely person to be mistaken for. reed doesn't care. 

sniffing, she says (a touch haughty), "she is not." unfathomable that someone might not know her mother, as perfect and beautiful and important as she is -- nearly as much as reed herself. deigning to lower herself to explain this to the poor clearly wayward girl, the fearghal says, "she is a healer and a masterful botanist -- she looks like me." 

oh, but she supposes she can't really fault the girl for not knowing, even if perhaps it would have been best to avoid taking a stab in the dark. tilting her head, she says, "what brought you here?" an offering to move beyond the awkward mixup. how incredibly gracious of her, no?

Any vestiges of friendliness fell away when the girl spoke in imperious tones--as if everyone knew this girl's mother! please--and Maegi's gaze grew icy, distant. "Healer" and "botanist" caught her attention, but it also reminded her of Potema, and she found it difficult to separate the two in her head. Does your mother wallow around in a poppy stupor all day, too?

"Sorry," Maegi said coolly, mouth firming. "I haven't met her yet. She sounds cool. Both my parents knew about plants, too. My. . .father taught me about poisons." She didn't know quite how to feel about Cicero, in retrospect. Raised at first to know him as her mother's brother, then life had taken a turn and, well, actually, he had sired her.

She didn't know where he was, whether he was alive or dead. She hoped that either way, he had found peace. As had--there came the pain again--Ramsay and Euron.

"I followed the brown woman and her daughter from Bearclaw Valley," she explained, casting her gaze south, where the land bridge was. "I didn't know where she was headed, I just didn't want to be where I was anymore."

coddled as she is, reed has been fortunate enough to be only surrounded by those who loved her unconditionally and indulged her nascient arrogance. maegi does not seem to find it charming. this is... surprising, and she finds herself frowning in return, wondering what her deal is. thankfully for both of them she does not bait but answers honestly, apologising (as she should!). it seems they have a shared lineage in botany. reed is unsure if she likes that or not. she says, "my father went insane and abandoned me," an ungenerous portrait of the fearghal patriarch if not undeserved. (and little does she know maegi's similarities in that arena, too).

perhaps she is the one who should be faulted for not knowing anyone, apparently, outside of her family and the strange sable creature that leads them. but she does not let that phase her, nodding as if she knows exactly who maegi means. "where were you?" the fearghal asks curiously, her head tilting to the side. perhaps that is how she gained her deformities, she thinks, her eyes glittering with interest.

She laughed. The sound held no color, no warmth--but she laughed. "My mother did that, too," Maegi said, the frown diminishing somewhat as she peered curiously at Reed. She didn't think it was common, for parents to abandon their young like Potema had; perhaps she was wrong. At least she now felt a sort of kinship between her and the ruddy girl, something she hadn't felt before.

Maegi shrugged, affecting coolness. "I lived in a forest," she said simply. "My brothers went off with my father to find someone; when they didn't return, I went looking for them. I got captured and. . ." Here she trailed off, her heart thumping slightly in her chest. She didn't want to talk about it, didn't want to revisit it, not when the wounds were so freshly healed--

--to speak the words aloud would be to rip them open once again. "Well, I'm here now, I guess," the young priestess said abruptly, shrugging. She looked at Reed. "Have you been here all your life?" The girl walked with such poise, such grace, on the beach, that Maegi thought it must be so.

how bothersome! yes, yes, and a tragedy for them both, but reed is not pleased with all their similarities, with this strange girl who is more interesting than she is. it won't do -- reed will just have to maintain an alliance with her. a non competitive agreement. hmph.

she's never been confronted with the harsh realities of someone else's life. unsure what to do, the fearghal looks away until maegi turns the conversation to her. not addressing what she was told, she says, "i was born here," indicating with the delicate point of her nose the direction her birthing den lay in, "when we were very young still -- after my father vanished -- we left, my brother and i, our mother, our older siblings." geographically she can't quite describe -- she was too little to remember much, and more interested in her family's attention than in exploring, with one stark exception. "my father found me at one point and tried to attack me," reed adds -- half misremembering the details of the incident, half hoping to have some trauma to compete, see, i've been through it, too. but there is no anxiety on her face as she recounts, only a haughty sniff at the memory. "after, my mama took my brother and i back here." 

it lacks a certain panache, she has to admit. frowning, reed pulls herself to her full (small) height, shrugging dismissively. "i like it best here," she says, "i'm sure you will too."

As she spoke, she saw Reed's gaze wander, and resisted an irritated snort. Well, she had asked. What else was she supposed to do, tell her some fairy tale? Maegi thought her story was interesting enough without embellishments, and she made a point to keep her eyes fixed on Reed, almost unnervingly so, as the russet girl told her own life story.

"Wow, that's sad about your father, trying to attack you," she said, frowning. Even Potema hadn't laid a paw on her, as much as she might have wanted to. "Are your siblings here now with you?" Her frown deepened into a pout. She was jealous, if so.

Maegi shrugged, noncommittal. "I'm getting used to it," she said. Her eyes raked over the surf. "My home was dark and full of trees. I liked that better. But the island is pretty cool, too." At least there were more people to talk to, here. Back home, it seemed like she was alone; everyone had kept to themselves, lurking in the shadows.

maegi's response is what she wants to hear. pleased, she preens a little bit, nodding in answer. "my brother droman," reed explains, making a dismissive gesture, "but not the others." she's not bothered by eirlys or celleach's absence particularly, her world still kept narrow.

'dark and full of trees' doesn't strike reed as enticing compared to the lush flora of the island, but to each their own, she supposes. "i'll help you," she decides, her tone leaving no room for argument. picking herself up she says, "one of my favorite places is this way," and starts to head there, expecting maegi to come along with her on this impromptu tour.

She hadn't met Droman yet, but she should soon; it would be nice to have another friend around her own age. It had been a weird existence for Maegi in which, beyond her brothers, she had only known older wolves. She'd never gotten the opportunity to have a "normal" friend group. Life here was so normal that she found it strange.

Reed beckoned her forward, not a questioning note in her tone, and Maegi followed, stifling a sigh. This girl sure was bossy. Then again, she was herself--Reed was sort of a kindred spirit, of sorts. Still, you put two fires together and what do you get? Usually a bigger fire.

"Why is there so much water?" Maegi asked, ears swiveling as she tried to catch all the varied sounds going on around her. "Back home we only had a little creek." It didn't seem right, to have all this water and just a little dollop of land. Where were wolves supposed to live? She'd learned the hard way that swimming forever was out of the equation.

she leads them from the beach, heading towards coaltree rise -- the summer has brought out all the best colors and interesting plants, and reed's passed many mornings and afternoons going through the fragrant blooms, looking for plants that carry interest or use or both. 

maegi's question earns a blank sideways glance, not sure if she's serious or not. at length she says, "it's an island," her tone suggesting duh. she didn't take the strange girl to be dull, but, well, no one is perfect, she supposes. the sand's given way to beautiful flora underfoot, and here reed pauses to take in the smell, smiling. she loves the island. ahead of them the rise unfolds, the blackened sequoia just visible in the distance, and reed turns to maegi expectantly. "it's beautiful, isn't it?"

"I don't know what that is," Maegi answered, sniffing in response. She was perturbed at Reed's apparent contempt for her, and shuffled awkwardly behind her, coming to the russet girl's side as she stopped. She was tempted to say "No," in response, just to spite her new acquaintance, but instead nodded her head in agreement, taking a good whiff herself.

After a moment's contemplation, she turned to Reed, the ruined side of her face dappled with shadows. "I'm not stupid, you know," Maegi said, a little venom in her voice. "This is all just. . .new to me. Where I come from, it's far from here, and it's completely different."

She dipped her nose to the creatures she saw grazing on the field, too big and weird-looking to be deer. "Like those. I've never seen those before. What are they?" They were very beautiful, each one uniquely colored, and she wanted to get closer, even if they didn't necessarily want her around.

hm. "i never said you were stupid," reed says plainly, casting her gaze back to the ruined face of her companion from the wildflowers. (she'd just thought it. sort of!) still, when she speaks again, her voice has lost some of it's haughty edge. "an island is land surrounded by ocean on all sides," she explains, "i don't know if there's any others along this coast besides this one, but i think this one's the biggest." 

maegi's attention is on the horses, not on her. she allows herself a tiny huff. "horses," she answers, stepping up to brush her shoulder against maegi's -- pay attention to me! -- taking on a slightly mischevious look. "we can get closer, if you'd like," she offers. chasing horses and such is not the sort of thing reed normally goes for -- she's much more excited by cataloging the flowers, for instance -- but if it will win her back into maegi's good graces, she'll go for it.

No, but you clearly thought it. Maegi listened to her explanation, giving a curt nod. At the question, she turned her head to Reed again. "Sure," she said, a little uncertainly. "It would be cool to see them up close." She waited for the girl to lead the way, as she clearly was the princess of the island and all that.

It was a lot to get used to. Back home, she'd felt entitled, haughty--the princess of her forest, in a way. Even though her mother hadn't wanted her and her deformity had marred her body, she still had carried herself with an air of superiority. She was a Melonii, after all.

But here, Reed was the superior being--or at least, she thought so. It was difficult to come to terms with someone else bearing that regal status, especially a girl around her own age. She'd never had problems with authority when it came from older wolves, but being talked down to by a contemporary left a bad taste in her mouth.

She wagged her tail slightly, at least willing to give Reed a chance. "Whatever you wanna do," Maegi remarked, deferring to the island girl on this matter.

whatever tension lingers between them, reed is ready to forgive and forget -- maegi's going along with her superior vision, after all. when maegi confirms this -- whatever you want to do! -- she can't help but straighten slightly, radiating a pleased air. and she wants to earn this chance, too. her haughtiness rests on competence, and that requires actual effort from her, and she's glad to do it, so long as she's recognized for it.

the fearghal flashes a smile at her new friend, lowering herself against the earth. "quietly," she cautions, creeping toward the lazing ponies on the assumption maegi is right behind her. it's basic: sneak up, pop out, have fun? or something. it'll work.

Maegi nodded, lowering herself instinctually. She crept behind Reed, keeping her eyes fixed on the horses, their round feet and their big eyes. Everything about them seemed at once terrifying and soothing, and it was this mixture that kept her on her toes, ready to flee at a moment's notice. There were a lot of them, too, and they were much bigger than she was. That was scary in and of itself.

She wanted to continue to ask Reed more questions--what was that plant over there? or this stone over here?--but knew she had to be quiet, and saved them for later. It was hard to move as stealthily as her new acquaintance, with her bad paw, but she did her best, maybe looking more like a hermit crab than an eel.

Closer and closer they got. Maegi waited for some sort of, like, signal from Reed on what they were actually doing, glancing back and forth between the horses and the ruddy girl.

reed hesitates. maybe this plan is a bad idea -- chasing horses doesn't actually seem very... fun. it seems sort of silly. frivolous. something droman would like. straightening slightly, she cuts her gaze to maegi, letting her shoulders lift and fall in a light shrug. "they'll run if we startle them," the girl explains, glancing back to the horses, "but maybe if we're -- careful in approaching, they won't mind us." this makes this sound as if it were her plan all along, of course -- mustn't let maegi think otherwise -- and very, very gingerly starts to rise, holding her breath. the horses don't seem to notice her yet, so, glancing at her new friend, reed takes a delicate few steps forward.

the horse closest to her snorts and lifts one hoof, unsettled but not threatened by the tiny wolf approaching. she stills, letting it adjust to her presence, and then sits, waiting for maegi to join her (if she so chooses).

Quietly, she crept next to Reed, rising like a flower in a spring meadow--slowly but surely. The horse shook its head, sending its hair flying, but eventually went back to grazing, large eye swiveling in its long head. Maegi looked at Reed, a genuine smile blooming over her face. To be so close. . .it seemed a kind of magic, really.

"They're beautiful," she whispered, looking back at the horse. "Do we. . .we don't hunt them, do we?" Rabbits, shrews, squirrels--all of these creatures were so wholly unimpressive to her that she'd never really minded making them her dinner. Even deer, she could stand. But these magnificent animals--how could they hunt them down? Their faces were so wise, Maegi couldn't help but think they knew something that she didn't.

it seems her switch was a good one -- of course, she's not a fool -- and, pleased with herself, she smiles at maegi indulgently. the horses seem to have accepted their presence, doing their graceful horse-y things. maegi's question makes reeds face scrunch up uncertainly. "i don't.. believe so," she says trying to recall if she's ever seen horse meat in the cache -- she's been too young for pack hunts, after all. they don't act like prey animals and frankly she doesn't fancy trying to get near those hooves. "i can't imagine why you would," she adds to this effect, frowning slightly as she watches one graze close by.

"No, me neither," Maegi agreed, gazing a little lovingly at the horses. Perhaps if she were human, Maegi would be vegetarian; as it stood, wolves needed meat--but it seemed grotesque to take meat from animals so beautiful. She was glad that Undersea, at least according to Reed, didn't make the creatures their quarry. Fish for dinner was fine with her.

"Thanks," she said to the russet girl, looking over at her with a lopsided smile. If they had gotten off on the wrong foot, Maegi was ready to shift back to the right one. She saw herself in Reed, the quick wit and intelligence of a girl almost a woman. That wit would put them at odds, naturally, but it was better to quarrel than to blindly follow.

It was, perhaps, the beginning of a beautiful, albeit tenuous, friendship.