Wheeling Gull Isle xx. and if it should pass that your heart aches for mine

He would not look at her. From the inside to out, he hardened. Muscles tensing as she approached further, fur as the tide itself rolled on his back. There was no sign of aggression, but he certainly didn't welcome any company at this moment, not a single one. A doll, as pristine as fresh snow, and just as lifeless. Not only did the scar maim his striking alabaster figure, but the slow-healing wounds of the sea beast from before on his thigh remained. Washed of excess blood, but the flesh still red and angry - other wounds blessed his tunic ever since. Clearly, he had been busy.

Does it matter? His words, bitter and chilling, as biting as the wind in the dead of winter. Once ago he felt his heartbeat at her presence, uncomfortably so, a warmth spreading from his chest to the tip of toes and all the way down his spine to the tip of his tail - but he felt it no more. As numb as death, he only felt the ground beneath him as it grounded him to this earth.