Shy Deer Steppes he runs, wishing he could fly

Her eyes narrowed further as Serem spoke, but she paid the woman no more mind as Hela piped up; Maegi's lips curved in a small smile as the girl asserted her authority. A Melonii through and through, she thought, and then corrected herself, slight. A child of Blackfeather. For they all were worthy.

I haven't seen Scylla, she murmured, face falling again. Nor your father. I'm not sure if they're hidden away, grieving, or looking for you, or. . . She let the other possibilities go unsaid. There was no need to dwell on the most gruesome hypotheticals.

Her countenance was soft, unguarded, as she stared at her niece. Will you come home with me, Hela? Maegi asked, for there was a strange vibe to the air around them. Like these strangers had sank metaphorical, spiritual fangs into the girl, for better or for worse.