Wheeling Gull Isle ≡ Invitations

John was, perhaps, the gentlest man she had ever heard. She came from a place where others were kind, but there was still a certain edge to most--especially the males. John didn't seem like one who harbored any kind of aggression in his heart. Isarda enjoyed his company greatly.

He asked that she held tight where he had taken her and she carefully began arranging things. Making a nice sort of bed to lie in. She had a feeling this would be her refuge for a few days. Perhaps she would try to go with John? She considered this in his absence....

  It wasn't too long and he had returned with food, "Oh thank you!" The emptiness of her stomach becomes all the more apparent with the offering before her. She grabs hold of it and draws it near her own little space. Flesh tears away easily and meat is exposed. A bite, two, three. She slows down and stops with her hasty need and looks towards him, "Where will you go?" She doesn't fancy allowing him to leave her after only having just met, "Are there others like you? Men and women so kind," Perhaps the bed had been useless for her if he decided to leave...then again, perhaps not?