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

Tagging you both because I have not posted in like fifty years. ♥

Seelie drew a deep breath, released it on an answering whine that eked out from betwixt her trembling teeth in an airy undulation — an echo of the fears that @Doe seemed unable to give voice to. The atramentous sheepdog was thankful for @Stockholm’s reassurance, and even more thankful for his possessive manner of speaking. He had said, “my Seelie” — he had claimed her, and she him, and this time (conveniently, she had forgotten about all the other “this time”s that had ended up with her alone on an island, whether literal or figurative) she would keep and be kept. There was no jealousy in her as she blithely agreed with the Gampr: “Your Doe,” she whispered to Stockholm, “my Doe.” And to the odd-eared siren of Tara, “Your Stockholm. Your Shadow.” So quickly, so easily, she knit them all together.

Right now, she could never believe that the world world change.

Right now, things would never be different.