Wheeling Gull Isle Don't lose hope

Powerplaying Stockholm with permission.

New posting order: @Laska/@Moonshadow/@Reigi/Coelacanth/Stockholm/@Rokig — and please check my OOC notes, as there will be occasions Stockholm will be powerplayed by me and skipped in the posting order. ♥

The sheepdog took to motherhood with zeal that bordered on obsession. As often as she dared, she bathed Mur and Fern and nudged them to her feathered flank to suckle — and at last, she began to produce. Her milk was thin and dilute at first, but it thickened, sweetened, until at last it was moonfroth pale and rich enough that Poppy’s children might thrive even in Reigi’s absence. It was an arrangement that pleased the sheepdog and the raven, for now the black-masked protector could patrol as often as she wished, and Seelie could indulge in the tenderness of nurturing Poppy’s legacy. There was a tenderness to the little wolfdogs’ suckling that teased at something deep inside her heart: a portent of joys to come, as Stockholm’s seed took root and grew within her.

It was from this idyllic peace that she was roused, Maegi’s flying paws carrying her from the Strand to the skirts of Skybowl — and Coelacanth resented immediately whatever had quicked the ghost girl’s spirit and caused it to weep bitter fear in her wake. Leaving the puppies under Moorhen’s care, she whuffed to Stockholm, who was already moving toward the source of Maegi’s unrest. Impatiently she pushed past her mate, heedless of her condition, which was evinced by the scent of sweet cream that clung to her aphotic pelage. As yet, she was not showing, but there was no mistaking the hormonal changes in her scent signature. With the Gampr’s impressive form crowding her hip and flank, she marched onto the scene with her finely sculpted head flung high.

Quill-like hackles flickered like wildfire. She knew that scent all too well. Her body language was eloquent where words failed her: “leave!” screamed the lash of her tail as it swept above her spine in a position that was utterly uncommon for her breed. “Leave!” roared the piercing glint of her Neptune eyes as they pinned down the prancing female. “Leave!” hissed the soft growl that ticked like dynamite within her tuneless throat. She took one step forward, a swift jerk of her muzzle indicating that the strangers should proceed immediately to the sandbar.

This was Maegi’s island as much as any of the other seawolves, and for her peace of mind Seelie wished to drive any threats — perceived or otherwise — away.