Wheeling Gull Isle keep a weather eye on the horizon

Axolotl is not sure where to even begin detangling and analyzing his (rapidly) growing affections for Maera. The path they lead him down is an inevitable one, admittedly. He understands where it leads and what will come to be from them. Yet, still, it serves to be perplexing to the leviathan whom has never thought it possible that he might find someone he could care for just as much as he does Atlan if given chance to nurture. There is part of Axolotl that does want to look to that potential path but another part of him that does if only because he dislikes being unaware; and in his current knowledge he has known no Atlanian to ever take mate nor have children and as a six month old pup it was not something Axolotl had ever considered to ask his mentors. As he faces Maera, glacial gaze touching upon her hazel own, taking her in in the admiring way he looks at the Sea: full of unrestrained wonder and admiration, Axolotl is filled with many questions he has no answer to.

All he knows is that she is (was) angry with him and it unsettles him deeply. He desires to reassure her that her presence is very much welcome and desired to him and seeks to smooth the rift. She worries for no reason. She worries, the consideration that she may return his affections causes his breath to catch momentarily in his throat and his ears flutter back to rest at half mast atop his skull as he works to process that possibility. Axolotl turns his thoughts from such things for the moment as Maera breaks her silence and informs him of what had happened at the meeting. “Komodo might take insult to my challenge and campaign for leadership,” Axolotl feels the need to inform her of all the possibilities. “I might find myself unwelcome here if they make him king or offer to lead together is spurned.” The leviathan would have never placed the earthstalker as so obstinate but he had no known the sheepdog to be so feral — hadn’t been aware she’d even had it within her — and he learns quick that change in others in inevitable and that wolves he remembers may not be the wolves he faces now. The Atlanian likes to see all roads and tries to determine what ends they make take so he is better prepared to handle them when they come.

Thoughts turn from the severity of his plight and their conversation as the leviathan watches as she takes a tentative step towards him and speaks that she believes him — which he cannot help but think if a good, relieving thing because he very much speaks the truth. “Maera —,” He murmurs and cuts himself short because eloquent words evade him; though he is not sure if this moment requires them. Actions speak much louder than words, the leviathan knows. He seeks to close the distance between them with assured step and reaches out with the intent to press his muzzle against her cheek if she allows it.