Barrow Fields sky underground

He was not sure if she understood him. It was this that pulled a name to the forefront of his mind, and he ached again in a different way, though one he was equally unaccustomed to feeling, these days. Grief for his shadow girl, long since long to him, punched a hole through his chest.

"You are still hungry," he said with certainty, as — whether she understood or not — his words seemed to entice her.

Dutch shuffled forward on his belly. Another few inches or so, just to broadcast that he wanted her closer.

"I will feed you, selkie girl."

He tried to speak kindly. Once upon a time, a girl similarly dark, and similarly silent, had warmed to him with kindness. He did not remember how he'd done it, but he remembered with painful clarity the way it'd felt.

This was not her. Perhaps they did not even look very much alike. Still — he missed her. He'd been missing her the longest.