Wheeling Gull Isle Man Machine Poem

In the darkness of the watery caverns, Moorhen settled and began to groom the ash from her pelt. The water was cool and soothing on her cracked paw pads as she cleansed the grittiness from between her toes. She kept one eye on the girl, making sure she didn't suddenly dart off or disappear altogether, but mostly focused on some much needed R&R.

When Thresher turned to her with her weird macaroni art, Moorhen paused her ministrations to stare deeply at the scratches. It made no sense to her, but there was something kind of.... Nah, they were just scratches. Moorhen gave the girl a perfunctuory kiss on the cheek before going back to her bath.