Wheeling Gull Isle lilac wine

She accepted his condolences with the barest of nods, eyes trailing off into the space beyond the boy. She was brought back to herself when he started talking about the game he'd chased and killed. Have you ever fished? Maegi asked suddenly, and then was taken aback. Why had she thought of that so quickly?

Rokig. Her stomach did a flip as she thought of the man, his haunted face, the kindness he'd shown her. Rokig had been the one to teach her to fish. Was he here now? She hadn't caught his scent anywhere—perhaps faint whiffs of it, now and again, but it was more ghostly than corporeal. He must be long gone from the island.