Wheeling Gull Isle you know i'm such a fool for you

If the raven had qualms or concerns about being enough for him, or somehow stymying his flow of energy [for better or for worse], she needn’t worry.

The woman, who was not so silent as of recent, had captured his attentions and held it longer than any other woman had been able to before. Perhaps it was only timing — she had come into his life when his priorities shifted from vagrancy on the road to residency upon the island — but also, perhaps there was something more that drove the two feral creatures to know each other and to love each other. Komodo, a man of the spirits, was greatly biased towards the latter. 

She made life easier to bear. Sometimes holding up the weight of the gods’ was tiring work. He literally must move mountains or change the tides in order to please them — the wants of a living, tangible creature were much more amenable. Komodo found that he could please the raven with ease, with presents and meals that were east to procure, and the angaqquk drew very real pleasure from providing for his beautiful canid. 

Could she do it on her own? Sure, but if Komodo could help it, she wouldn’t ever need to. 

He was awoken a little earlier than he believed necessary, but when he parted his weighted lids to notice it was only the girl wriggling her way deeper into his embrace. The man folded easily into this change of plans, hooking his paw around her narrow frame and drawing her in closer, so that she was also a beautiful feathered wing, folded and tucked up alongside his body. With her nose tickling his ear, it was easy for him to drift off back to the sleep — as was evidenced by the long, drawn, sleep-heavy breathes that he drew through his leathered nose. If she had decided it was time to wake up, she would need to make it more obvious than that.