Wheeling Gull Isle going in town with six rounds

Scouring the isle would lead her to the western shore where the beginnings of Aristos had moored only days before - cloak of nitesky plastered in places with the salt of the sea, slim legs crusted with sand. It was a feeling of homecoming, the wild seabreeze whipping her as she jogged. 

They'd yet to truly begin the preparations for foundation - including the establishment of borders - which meant that Rhælla couldn't really fault the rogue for his trespass when she spotted him on the horizon. The nightwisp canted  calmly to halt some leap away - chirping a whuff softly. 

"Merry meet," the dark fae murmured once he'd turned to face her - proferring a gentle smile.

np, I'm a stickler for long posts!