Sea Lion Shores the sun is gone, but i have a light

he was a fearsome and unafraid creature. mona studied the youth of his countenance; he did not seem far from her own age. and yet there was a savagery there that she would never possess, a primal verve to his features that reminded her of the wildman in the wood, of stigmata. unhinged, she supposed; he was perfectly genteel and calm to the eye, but beneath his nightfall coat the promise of darker things.
her brow furrowed. "what ... what is an island?" she had not heard the word before, or if she did mona did not recall it. perhaps she could have gleaned it in context, but she rather liked the stony roll of his voice. "i was actually born here, in the teekons. a place called silver creek," mona added, meeting the seawolf's eyes once more, a warm and nostalgic glimmer in her gaze now.