Wheeling Gull Isle going in town with six rounds

Ah, so it wasn't yet entirely her own. If ever an opportunity presented itself, this was it. Though to what end he did not yet entertain the thought of, not with the uncertainty that held a violent grasp, emboldened soon thereafter when she revealed that she had kept an eye on him far longer than he had released. She must have had a decent vantage point to have seen him, though he had hardly gone to pains to mask his location along the stalks and waves of grass and dune alike.

Or, he soon thought, perhaps she possessed a power greater than that, that the mind's eye had foretold of cheerless stragglers and that she turn her gaze towards the mainland and its shore. Nothing seemed impossible, though the greatest power any of them had to hold was their intent. Her intent was, needless to say, strong if not ambitious. An undertaking he had no aspirations of for himself; his focus had long been on survival and nothing more.

The opportunity mocked him further as she extended an invitation, or so he perceived in her offer of a meal. He should have balked at the offer and excused himself, but temptation was a mighty thing in regards to survival. Her company he was not quite ready to rid himself of either; he was too full of questions that would not come to his lips, lingering still on her greeting.

"Generous of you to offer strangers a meal," he rejoined, wondering to himself what strings were attached.