Northstar Vale and we weren't even married (dmn?)

tiny bitey posts begin: now. riprip

Condoling, she thinks; communactive that was to be no such usurpation ... though Andraste is no less burdened by errant worries both oldworn and newborn here and now. Instruction  —  set into the classic frieze-figure of selkie, all calmed and comandeering with tail feathered to belly. Mentor's words, though the naiad could have very well helmed the fée's mistcourt if she so wished. But it was not to be, and so Andraste instead  (once the shivers have mostly gone)  sets her path on one that will have her prowling stilted; the brandishing of her plume forgotten as she nears the Fëafelmë in a half-crescent way, wavering;

She starts, rawboned figure lurching one way but then—!
it is another direction that she feints; slavering snarling with exertion, with effort as she rears and rocks upon spindly hinds in that she might gnaw deep earlobe, ruff, pinching the base of skull, leonine. Makes the cruel pointedness of her joints to batter against Kalika's greyling form.

In the chance that she has snared the siren to her  (still cautioned enough to leave skin unbroken)  the stricken would begin to  (attempt to)  wrest the larger of them to loam.