Wheeling Gull Isle The Road To Hell Is Paved With Good Intentions

Rhælla felt sympathy course in her veins for the sable-pelted male, leaning her head against his shoulder in comfort as he laid bare his tale. "I'm truly sorry, Connor," she offered, knowing even that it was a useless thing to give. 

"That's noble of you, and a good way to honor their memory," she smiled, voice gone soft for fear she might have overstepped. "It reminds me much of my own reasons for wanting to build Aristos," she shared, much as a co-conspirator. 

"It's good that we have a pack built on such ideals," the wisp added as they continued on into Longshore - pausing occasionally to rub her sandy pelt along the plant and shale, or to rear and gouge her mark upon the trunks.