Cerulean Cape lent et douloureux

Internally, Moorhen bristled at the possessive wording. Obviously, anything that washed up on Undersea's shores was hers, Currituck included - but Moorhen recognized that as a thought brought to us by her pre-estrus cycle, and kindly refrained from correcting the pale woman.

Instead, she shifted uncomfortably, torn between the desire to keep all outsiders away from her island and the knowledge that reuniting a family was the respectable thing to do. The thing that Coelacanth would prefer. Come to islann, stay at islann? Not take Curtituck? Not goodbye? she pressed, ears swiveling forward as she made her demands. Coelacanth would stay strong, of course, and insist that with her family was where Currituck ought to be - but Moorhen knew that each loss hurt her very deeply, and with the storm having taken so many so recently, Moorhen was not prepared to allow another lamb to leave the island.

Allmother, Coleacanth, love very very for Curtituck. The storm take all loves, all gone to sea. She will be so sad if more go, she tried to explain. But you can come, be sea wolf. Have many loves, live happy life. It was a clumsy speech, but it was put together on the fly, and under what Moorhen considered heavy pressure. Come to Undersea - islann jewel under skylight and seassong. Beautiful and heppy.