Wheeling Gull Isle all hail king neptune

Tuulikki frowns as Wanheda  explains all well see and hear the Wanheda, making her own look of the woman not as special as she’d originally thought.  If all could see, she doesn’t have a higher power of being she originally thought.  The other must be much more powerful than she originally thought, much older than she really expected.  The reign of wanheda is a long one, and power simply gains through each passing soul they take.  The taste of disappointment lingers in the back of her throat that her teachings have been wrong, her superiors have been wrong, but, whom better to learn from than the very meaning of death herself?  She could return to her former home with firsthand knowledge they’ve only dreamed about having.

“Yes.”  There’s a pregnant pause, Tuulikki holds her breath for a moment, looking out to the fresh water. It is only so full because of the storm.  She yearns to take another drink.  Serving as a priestess for the death hadn’t been in her teachings.  She is closer to the earth and growth and the living.

Heda.

The girl pushes the word from her mind, letting her gaze return to the smoke wolf.  If she were to be a heda to this, she knew she had a ways to go.  To lure someone to the fate of a wanheda, she had to connect to them with a livelihood no amount of death could mimic.  “I must bring you a sacrifice in exchange to keep my life,” she tells her, sure she already knows this information.  She’d been headed toward death the entire time and if Wanheda wants to spare her, she must offer  something in return.