Wheeling Gull Isle you've still got a little lightning in you

A moment later, the woman's growl had faded to a submissive whimper. How could she fight against something so much bigger than herself? And like the waves that hurried toward the shore only to be pulled back against their will, Doe, too, found herself scuttling closer, rearing back as if she possessed the strength to tear herself away from the magentic pull of the Wickedness of the Sea.

It was a black blip that broke the tie between herself and the deep blue. Luminous eyes turned to take in the lithe figure that'd appeared just down the shore. Oftentimes, when Doe looked at other wolves, she found herself slipping through endless realities, staring into the different faces she'd known throughout the years. This was not so when she look at the creature in front of her; there had been many dark wolves in her life, but she had only one shadow.

One slight woman half-turned toward the other one, tongue forming a familiar name but teeth clenched too tightly to release the sounds. Her tail gave a frantic twitch behind her, but she lived in an economic body, unused to such frivolous gestures, and the movement quickly died. Doe simply stood there as they met, an uncertain murmur slipping past her teeth - one that not even Doe could call warning or welcoming. But after a beat, she tucked in her head, nuzzling the darker creature as well as she could. Szymon bumped against her Shadow's head, and she stopped - but a breathless sigh advertized her bittersweet relief. Something too soft to be joy burned low in her heart, and she felt her shoulders begin to relax without her permission.