Wheeling Gull Isle bismil

he smelled someone nearby, but left it be for now. it was the burly pale man that approached that he sought out, and a sick sense of pleasure bloomed in his stomach, oddly akin to fear. perhaps it was fear, and his bravado masked it as pleasure. either way, aditya nodded at the man's greeting, shifting his weight to steady himself.

"stockholm," he answered, gilded gaze fixed on the overseer. "i'm glad you have come. i've something to say to you, but it must wait until coelacanth arrives."

and so they would wait. the sea breeze caressed his pelt, lifting the fine, silken ends and giving the appearance of bristling--but there was none of that. not yet, anyway. no, this would be an interaction as calm as could be. . .as long as stockholm gave him what he wanted, without argument.

there would be an argument, he knew. he would not emerge unscathed. but hope sprang eternal.