Wheeling Gull Isle i'm growing and it hurts

*snuggles*

His question took her unawares, and the delight that had settled upon her face fell away, replaced by a mask of cool impassivity. Yet, at the same time, there was a voice screaming at her--don't clam up now, educate the poor, misguided boy! Her impulse to protect her family and their gods warred with her natural urge to teach, to tell, and her mouth contorted in protest, unsure of what to do. She turned away from Droman, taking a few awkward steps through the surf, head hanging.

Then stopped. Turned back again, her head over her shoulder. "Peryite," she said, pitching her voice a little higher, to be heard over the waves. Maegi walked toward Droman again, countenance shy. "The god of pestilence and disease. Peryite brings sickness. . .slow, silent death. I'm named after Peryite." She laughed without humor, looking down. "My mom didn't really like me."

Her eyes danced as she glanced at Droman again, smiling genuinely, now. "You don't have to give me anything," Maegi insisted, idly dragging her right forepaw through the water, throwing herself a little off-balance as she burrowed it into the wet sand. She giggled. "As long as you don't think I'm being dumb," she echoed him.