Wheeling Gull Isle on the line between gaia and poseidon

“Yes!” Seelie acquiesces immediately. It is good and right that the girl should tell her family where to find her. “Wish for Currituck meet friend,” she offers sincerely, nosing lovingly at the girl’s cheek as she gestures toward the island’s heart. “Many guppy — Grayling, Treas — Sixgill, Koi, Fern, Mur, Lucas.” She trips over her lost daughter’s name, but rights herself almost immediately, offering the foundling a sad-eyed smile. “Come eat, meet friend,” she repeats, and pads a few steps toward the Labyrinth, where most of the food has been moved to ride out the coming storm.