Larksong Grotto i've got this restless ache at the center of me

Noticed, it was with the expectation of being shooed away that she glanced elsewhere, only to realise soon enough that she was being welcomed. Still curious, her legs continued forward, stopping again when she was just beyond the wolf’s reach. There she felt comfortable enough to loosen her grip on the seal skin and lay it at her feet, one of which that then was placed atop it firmly. And over her lips was her tongue then drawn, readying her to speak after having been silent for so long. Yet, it is not without trouble that she attempted to communicate, for the first thing to leave her mouth was, “An bhfuil tú gortaithe?” After which she patiently awaited an answer for several long seconds, only to have eventually realised the mistake made with her tongue; having been at the Bay for so long, she’d all but forgotten that the common tongue was not the same as her family’s, and that she must be mindful of her words.

Clearing her throat, Muirgen began again as she said, “I’m sorry. Are you hurt?” This time, she made certain to speak only in what she recalled as being the most frequently spoken language, knowing that she had a better chance of being understood that way. Again, she waited for an answer, eyes slowly trailing over the girl’s body as she did so. Should there be any wounds, she hoped to locate them—not because she was at all capable of mending that which may be broken, but simply because she felt concerned for the life of another.