Wheeling Gull Isle And basically I've gotta know

She tried not to think about him. 

At first, it was just too hard to accept. Looking at him was like looking upon a ghoul; she'd long presumed Daeg to have perished in the riots. Later, it was frightening - remembering what they'd shared, what had happened in the shadows. 

She'd been young, scared, hurt - little more than a girl. At most, furtive kisses stolen in hidden moments passed between them but there was truth in his devotions, healing in his touch.

It had been real.

But she'd lost it when he'd 'died' and something inside had never mended afterwards. Alone, broken, she had wandered to these southern lands - repressing the loss of him. It had been too fresh to grieve; the exile could not allow it to consume her if she was to survive. So, she'd buried him - and everything they might've been. It was easier to bury herself too, in the foundation of Aristos. 

The girl could not help but reflect on this hidden history as she watched, perched on the stone ledges above. They'd yet to speak since finding each other once more, which was likely her fault. Still, some fragment of her whispered that he might've been angered by her rejection, might be regretting his pledge of loyalty. 

The cove murmured with magicks, with the voices of her gods - and Rhæ wondered if he still heard their voices, or if he had forgotten the ways of her past. The nitewisp could hide for only so long; at last she could not bear it, she must reveal herself. 

With a bunching of her dark haunches, she tumbled nimbly down to land almost silently upon the sand. In the dark, her one-eyed sight was thrown farther off kilter - her limbs curling, knees crumpling against the sand. The blackbird bit at her lips ruefully, withholding a laugh of embarrassment. 

She rose, shaking the the grit from her starry pelt with a little quiver as she pattered closer. The corvid arced around the mountainous, ruddy build - scarred crown falling against her nape to peer up at him.

For all the world, such a creature should have struck fear into her heart. Yet, something settled, clicked at the sight of him - as if the autmnal Vallaeris possessed the ability to right the world. 

"Daeg," the Seelie lilted timidly in her mother tongue, slow as she took her own seat some pace from his side - unsure if he might want her company.