Wheeling Gull Isle OTHELLO, I WILL AVENGE YOU

Wednesday had nothing to lose in life, and nothing that had ever given her any measure of feeling. In a life of only numbness, she lived for herself. She served herself, and always would. It was a hellish life she led. But as she looked to the woman beside her, Wednesday wondered if there might be perhaps a little something more...

But then, Wednesday wanted to possess this other as she possessed anything else: entirely. She would take her time with it. For the other had a strange effect on her. She wanted its potency to extend, for it to be mutual. Wednesday padded behind the other, and at the others gesturing she dipped herself into the water. Wednesday slid her foreleg into the water and lifted it to paw at the ear, which had been cleaned as best as she would let Gristle. The pain stung, and she grimaced, exposing the raw looking wound to the other to see her judgment on the cleansing. 

Wednesday could not help her slip of the tongue, however. You are very pretty, she thought to mention. But you prefer the captain? He was rugged, seaworn. Of course, she was far worse on the eye than anything. For the first time she did find herself caring, and she looked away, ashamed of her own visage, ashamed that she would even imagine that one such as this pearl among seaweed would think to entertain such a conversation like this.