Wheeling Gull Isle Fallen from God Fallen from grace

Rhælla was left to hover in anticipation, silent - only her heart to beat in her ears as she waited with an air of patience, a facade of poise. 

A small sound escaped her, one of relief, nearly inaudible as his response fell on her auds - the simple phrase seeming to burst into the tense air. 

"Thank you," she breathed softly, unable to conjure anything more grand. Weight shifted off her chest, stones she hadn't been aware of laying, and she tried not to think about why Rosencrantz made her feel safer. 

Maybe it was nothing more than instinctive trust, laid at his paws the moment her eye opened to find he had not abandoned her to sate his own needs. 

Maybe it wasn't - which was why she dared not look too closely. 

"Only the more reason why you're right for the job," the wisp murmured honestly. Serious was good - serious could work in terms of protecting their home.