Wheeling Gull Isle i’m not superstitious, but i’m a little stitious

Her heart pounded in her chest as she tore after the inkdog, who was undoubtedly in search of her ghostgirl.  Her pace and pulse quickened in tandem as the girl's feral, frightened howling reached her ears — no! — and she skid to a halt a moment too late, tumbling into the waters of the skybowl.

When she emerged, she shook herself off from a distance, her nerves alight with a protective, motherish kind of terror.  She had not been there to protect Maegi from whatever had fallen her at Blackfeather, but she could protect her now.

Maegi.