Wheeling Gull Isle i've got wide, staring eyes

AW but maybe a @Reed ?

One Melonii indigo, one orange.

Maegi stared into the pool of clear mountain spring water, staring at her reflection. She had never taken the time, since her injury, to look at it before. Her mouth took her aback, but it was her eyes she was focused on, blinking gently back at herself.

If the indigo represented family, duty, tradition. . .what of the orange? The right eye ensured her mother could never deny her, for which other wolves in these lands had that twilight gaze? But orange came from Cicero, and orange occupied the damaged side of her face. If indigo was stability, orange was chaos.

Orange was Peryite.

She knew why Potema had named her that. Pestilence. . .she was a plague. A plague in the womb, a plague on the ground, a walking reminder of the horror that had befallen the priestess. The moniker held no love for the mother, and sometimes, Maegi was ashamed of it. Other moments, she felt a twisted kind of pride. Peryite. . .bringer of death and destruction. But not through blood and war. It was a silent sickness that swept through the lands, infecting all in its path.

Peryite, the lord of the damned, the diseased. Potema might have intended to doom her, with the name. But now Maegi realized that it was a blessing in disguise, cloaked in filthy rags.

"Peryite, lord of the plague, bringer of death
Receive my prayer. . ."

Her whisper rippled the surface of the pool, stirred the air around her. A feverish look entered her gaze--and while the Melonii side of her face stayed cool and impassive, the ravaged cheek was forever set in a wicked smile.