Wheeling Gull Isle he worries: did he hear a goodbye? or even a hello?

Yes, she agreed, looking at Prevost with a smile and trying to keep thoughts of Sakhmet at bay. It was easy enough, given that Aiolos launched thereafter into answering her questions and a lot came to her; she tried to make sense of it all but some of it ended up jumbled. Names she didn't know, things she already knew. . .

Caldera. Redhawk. The words snapped her into focus, her ears coming forward, eyes narrowing. Good, she said in response, the last consonant clipped. She pulled the babies closer, as if the stranger lurked just around the corner. Hopefully, he won't be back. Although. . .

Her voice dipped low as she considered a stark possibility. Is he their father? Maegi asked. Did he say, I mean? I don't suppose you could tell. . . Parvati's children had not resembled any of their parents, blood or otherwise, in the slightest. 

But if the Redhawk was her father, it made her feel a little uneasy to have kept his own blood from him. Granted, Niamh had wanted a fresh start—but if Maegi had children out there, somewhere, she'd go to the ends of the earth to find them. Obviously it worked differently for mothers—

She shook her head, cutting off the emergent tangential musing, and waited for Aiolos to speak again.