Wheeling Gull Isle wet

but the male's calls were not answered by a holy god, no, they were answered by a pale slyph-- proud in stature but humble in nature. aria was not a goddess, but her gaze glowed again with a grace that had replaced a dull, emotionless stare. she heard the call from not too far off, and was relieved to hear of someone else. it was true, everything on the island smelled of wet, and aria herself was having a hard time discovering anything except sand, salt, and a crab every now and then.

she'd been pacing the ocean (from a safe distance) in frustration, confusion, unsure of how her winter trip had somehow turned into a summer vacation-- a rather dreadful one at that. she'd patched her shoulder up herself, the wound still healing but well on it's way, but it made no sense how she'd gotten it-- or how she'd gotten into the ocean... or how the seasons had suddenly changed. and who was floki? why did she remember his name? and the handsome amber-eyed male? surely they were the same, and surely a dream. aria had no answers, she remembered only a journey from up north, and how she'd wanted to make a new name for herself. her only thought, when she'd heard the call, was that maybe this stranger would know.

he was nothing she hadn't seen before-- a handsome male. his trinkets made little sense to her, but she did not judge. she padded closer, one dainty paw after the other, her ears perked and her gaze studying him and the display before him. she was mostly interested in the sort of sack around his neck, but made no comments or gestures-- not yet. she was confident enough in her social-skills should he invite her to conversation, but he was a stranger still, and aria had no time to deal with a savage.