Wheeling Gull Isle Now I'm begging for footnotes in the story of your life

Yes, Huā confirmed, and Wylla released a breath she didn't realize she was holding. While it was only a first impression, she was glad that Huā so far lacked any obvious signs of arrogance. It helped that Huā, from smell alone, wasn't a young wolf fresh on their second year of life and hopped up on their hormones. The woman's size was no object—Wylla knew better than most that being small was not the same as being weak, or unworthy of respect.

The man who arrived to stand at Huā's side was an imposing sort for his height, but built less solidly than the likes of Mahler. He reminded her a little of her son with his reedy physique, a thought that brought a painful pang to her chest. Her first impression of Aiolos was that he was a man who knew his place next to a woman who was his better, although there was nothing in the way he presented himself to make her draw that conclusion. It was as much a result of her recent personal bias regarding men as it was any legitimate dynamic between the two.

I was expecting someone a little more... self-important, Wylla admitted, sweeping her gaze back to Huā and then dropping it to the wet sand. It was a boy who told me about your island. Very full of himself. Kind of assumed you'd all be the same. That remained to be seen. First impressions were important, but more nefarious traits often hid under the surface of such superficial exchanges. What happened here would determine if she would get to know these wolves better or not, but only time would reveal if they were worthy of her respect. These days, she couldn't afford to be choosy, but she wouldn't follow blindly, either.

Wylla, she said with little fanfare. My companion and I were curious about the group here, so I've come to see for myself. Little did she know that @Stag was quickly advancing across the sand bridge.