Wheeling Gull Isle wordlessly watching, he waits by the window

His faith in Amun was as strong as hers in Jaes, she thought. She would have been comforted by his belief in deities if not for her own experience with the daedra. Not all gods were good—and she had no way of knowing if this Amun was anything like Sithis or Mephala.

She was disturbed, suddenly. She rose up, took a step back, giving him a wan smile.

I'm tired, Maegi excused herself. I should go rest. Loath to pluck herself from the cool breeze, but. . . Perhaps it was only her impending childbirth making her so wary. She usually gave into these conversations, pouring out her heart and soul, lightly parrying with words.

But he scared her, and the near future scared her, too. Only in the shadows of her den, close to Mou, did she feel any semblance of safety.

Maegi left, leaving lopsided pawprints into the sand in her wake.