Wheeling Gull Isle always laughing in the midst of power

still, she is wary. the midnight-pelted had struck suddenly and without warning, vicious in her calibrated intent. there is no reason she should trust the woman here now not to do the same. togue passes over her lips, dry and cracked, mistrust etched into every line of her features. 

she is slow to answer, the first time she had, she'd been attacked. moments pass, but words come all the same. "the sea," she offers, hating the effort demanded by the simple words. "and then orochi," a breath, and a moment passes before she continues. "his mother, the dark woman." her throat burns, a blooming headache adding to her hurts, but she will not drink beneath the gaze of this stranger when she could so easily force her head beneath the stream, wet her fangs against her undefended body. this time, she is prepared, tensing should any of this information incite the woman to attack.