Wheeling Gull Isle this isn't a stain of red wine, i'm bleeding love

hoping for a @Constantine <3 keeping things vague

that meeting had not clarified or simplified anything about her. if anything, she was more confused. constantine-- a name for the face that she'd dreamt about. it was a nice name, she liked it, and it felt so familiar, but she could not remember for the life of her why. or, maybe, it was mayfair, maybe that was what she remembered... but not even. her brain wracked around in her head for some sort of clarification but she found nothing-- and was distraught.

she wandered the territory trying to map it out-- trying to remember that, if anything. it was something that she could do, and occasionally, while she wandered, she'd daydream of something else that was as eerily familiar as constantine's face. but still, nothing fit together well enough. she hoped, as she wandered, that she'd come across the tall drink of a man that constantine was-- maybe he could help. he claimed to only know her in passing, but he'd swore his allegiance to her right on the spot... that surely didn't feel like a 'oh we met once' type deal. but, so far, she'd yet to see him. 

so she wandered more throughout the island, hoping still that she could find some answers.