Wheeling Gull Isle wordlessly watching, he waits by the window

Pharaoh. She turned to him, a slightly jaundiced look upon her face. Their relationship had began on rocky ground, and while it had been briefly mended, their parting exchange had turned sour once more. Still, that might just be the nature of them—the young man haughty, the broken woman prickly.

Still, she gave a brief dip of her head to acknowledge his presence, then shook it in reply. I only know of poisons that come from plants and trees, Maegi said. Well, and that some bugs like spiders are poisonous. But I've never heard of poisonous snakes.

Ah, well. If talk of poisons got her mind off her own uselessness, she would grasp the chance with alacrity. Tell me about them, she prompted, and turned fully to him, the shift also alleviating the constant spray of salt-soaked wind in her face. Her pelt lifted on the breeze, making her look a little larger than her slight frame.

Would he notice? Did she show? She didn't think so, and yet she felt rounder, fuller. Maybe he was that perceptive.