Wheeling Gull Isle i cannot put my finger on it now

A new face, came a voice over the wind, and Maegi turned, grimacing against the salt on the air. The question came—she had an overwhelming urge to say, 'No.' Instead, she nodded briefly, and angled her body back toward the waves, looking over the rolling turbulence.

I'm Maegi, she introduced herself, waiting for the woman to draw alongside her. She hadn't noticed much, still lost in thoughts, but she had noted a pale cream pelt with darker points, an accented tongue. It seemed that many of the wolves here (well, at least within the minute sample size she had to work with) spoke languages other than common speech.

Would they teach her, like Kove and Aningan had offered? She wondered if it had any relation to the northern language, or if it was different entirely, from some far-flung place she'd never heard of.

Māzigon, she thought again, missing her old mentor something fierce.