Wheeling Gull Isle and the worms ate into his brain

She sat patiently, waiting for Mou to get the words out. Not entirely speechless, really--but if this was as good as he was going to get, Maegi struggled to label him as anything more. Finally, he spit out the sentiment, and the girl blinked softly at him, licking his cheek, as if soothing a worried pup. She shook her head, a gentle motion, but ceased after her skull began to throb once more.

"It's okay, Mou," she crooned, eyes creased to slits, like a cat in the sun. "I'm okay--I promise."

For once, it wasn't a lie. The guilt, the terror, that had pushed her toward the poppy stash. . .it was all gone, replaced by an icy sense of pragmatism. She was, truly, okay now. Even if her head felt as if it would explode, and her limbs weighed down by countless invisible weights. In her mind, she was at an odd sort of peace.

Maegi didn't remember him coming to her side last night, but she was grateful for his presence, this morning. His face was preferred over all. "How are you feeling?" she asked again, tilting her muzzle in inquiry. "You're up and about."