Wheeling Gull Isle wet

he stared back, and silence consumed the beach for a few eerie moments. a paw pressed itself to the sand in one more step before she stilled altogether, waiting. then, he spoke, and her head raised ever so slightly-- taking interest in his words. are you well? the stranger asked, aria didn't know. she was injured, her shoulder, but she felt fine. she had no illness or disease and was merely confused. how did she get here? would this man even know? she would not ask, not yet, it would be impolite to accuse someone-- a stranger she'd never met-- of something upon their first interaction. she did not know his intentions.

"lost, but healthy," she said instead, gaze flitting to the ocean before falling back on him. the season change bugged her the most. she'd known wolves to sleep walk, surely that was her fate, how she'd arrived here on this island, but she certainly didn't sleep for half a year. her shoulder sent a slight jolt of pain, and she winced. it begged for attention, reminding her of it's condition, and she bowed her head. "i hurt my shoulder-- i do not know how. i can tend to it myself, though," she added with a slow blink. she didn't have any herbs, but surely she could find something here. it was clear of infection, the salt water helped with that, but she had nothing to stop bleeding or help with scarring. she hated scars, her body was a temple, and to be kept clean of blemishes and wounds. to let a wound remain was undignified.

she stared a small bit more, quietly at first before her jaws parted. he was doing something odd, and she was confused. "are you well?"