Wheeling Gull Isle fayaslais

they are spotted.

worripa; her voice soft. a dead name for a dead boy. even ingram did not fit them anymore. not truly. but it served it's purpose when 'keeper' and 'dreadfather' did not.

she has grown, they note, though their memories of her are fuzzy; clouded by the cloying and choking void, by the crimson of their mother's blood.

to have thought to have severed all ties — cleanly or otherwise — and yet find her here fills the dreadfather with a soft pang that they instinctively hate. there is only the listener, their children and the druids. they are the family that the dreadfather has.

no, speaks the voidwalker. worripa is dead. i gutted him from the inside out. a violent and cruel way to say that the brother she knew is gone. killed the boy so the god can live. i am the dreadfather.