Sea Lion Shores danger close

Moorhen's ears flipped back in displeasure when he denied her, and she was about to order him to the island more forcefully and in a far less friendly manner when he descended on their forgotten (to her) meal. Which was fine, she supposed - the male looked as though he could do with a good meal - but she was still grumpy at being disobeyed, even if she (ostensibly) rather wished Szymon would take the lead at this point.

Not sure what else to do, she sat and watched while he gorged himself, and began to feel her own hunger return to her. Enough that, when Szymon gifted her a pile of organs with an inelegant splat!, only a beat passed (during which she eyed her uncle half-tenderly, half-hopeful) before she descended ravenously upon the steaming meal. And if it were possible to eat and contemplate at the same time, she would've been thinking, Boy, this seems like a good sign! He gave me some organs. Organs = love and sanity. But it was not possible. Not for Moorhen.

Finally, she lifted her head, her own features as bloodied as his - though it showed rather less on her dark coat. "Now to islann," she ordered, and the steel in her eyes dared him to argue again.