Wheeling Gull Isle one of my turns

Maegi's ears fell, defeated, as she shook her head in answer. Names ran through her mind, so many--she didn't want to overwhelm the woman. Even if one of them could be the link, her ticket home--no. It wasn't possible. These lands were so big; outside the Woods, she'd never run into anyone more than once.

"Okay," she said, giving it up (for now). Something from earlier had entered her mind, and she peered up at the burly woman, tilting her head. "You heard me earlier. You said Mephala. Do you know of the Night Mother, the Dread Father?" She likely hadn't, but Maegi had learned that Meldresi had had family spread all over, and followers, too. Perhaps. . .

No. The speechless woman was likely just repeating her; what were the odds of them sharing the same lore?

She needed a name. What use was it to live without a name? Maegi clung fiercely to hers, even through adversity; it was what made her who she was, what gave her worth, both within herself and to the world. She squinted at the woman, pondering. She would have to come up with something. Moorhen had called her Venninne. . .

"Never mind," she whispered. Whoever she was, wherever she came from. . .she was, in a way, family now. That was all that mattered, for the time being.