Wheeling Gull Isle plaža

@Caracal or @Heda ~

whenever sweet teuta saw it fit to grant him a plentiful bounty, the bard spared himself the meal, and left it on the sands facing the isle - offering to the little monahinja.

whether those fat gulls and long fish ever made it into the intended belly, slavuj couldn't know, and wouldn't worry. it was the romance of it that delighted him, on days of poor fishing, kept his singing cheery as ever. would do the world no good, having in it a mirthless singer.

this day the sky were swirling grey, and the waters had receded to reveal the sandbar. slavuj trotted with a red fish betwixt his teeth. 

tongue dammed, he found an output by humming.

Whether or not the island would become a formally claimed territory, it was still their home. And soon it might house their children. The thought put a hitch in Caracal’s breath even as he found himself patrolling the shores. Namely, he walked back and forth along the stretch of beach facing the mainland, wondering if others might wander across the land bridge.

Indeed, someone was crossing it as Caracal approached the spot where the sandbar met the isle. He stopped at the junction and stared at the figure, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. It looked like a cross between a bundle of seaweed and some mummified driftwood, magically animated and carrying a fish.

Had Caracal known what it meant, he might’ve made the sign of the cross or thrown some holy water at it. As it was, he could only gape as the peculiarity came closer.

slavuj had never boasted a hound's vision - that were his sibling's domain - but the cords of tangled fur, curtaining his face, were certainly an obstruction!

so it was that he didn't see the man, not until a gap opened and revealed the islander's aghast expression.

the komondor paused.

around the fish, he smiled. his heavy tail began to sway.

ghh haey-! yes, the fish. slavo set it under his tassels, onto his paws.

he looked up again and grinned in full.

gooed daey! yeau are fram svit-arbor, yes?

It must be some sort of sea creature, he decided, maybe a strange pinniped of some kind. Where were its flippers though? Right as that thought drifted through his head, the entity halted in its tracks and made a noise. Then the fish was deposited on the ground and Caracal could sort of make out a mouth, as well as a tail swaying at the rear of the bedraggled lump.

He sucked in a sharp breath as the weird animal spoke to him. It knew about Sweetharbor?! Caracal took a skittish step backward. He didn’t have the words “the power of Christ compels you!” but he projected that very sentiment at the oddity. This included holding up a paw even as he recoiled, a silent demand for the thing not to come any closer until he could make sense of it.

Who—what—who are you? he sputtered.

Thanks for the kudos, lol.

poor man was frightened! slavuj couldn't help it - his grin broadened, his tail swayed stronger.

vhy, ai aem ae simple bard! songster, vord-veaver, et cetera. he dipped his head. 

naem is slah-vooy, aend ai aem femiliar vith ae certain voman vho keeps thies island. nosiljka grimiznoga krsta. anđeo s vučjim očima.

a brown eye glinted. ies she heer?

He could barely understand the thing as it spoke. From what he could gather, it might know Heda. He relaxed a little, though he was still pretty wary. And then Caracal realized it hadn’t mentioned her by name, only asked if she was here.

I don’t know, Caracal hedged. What’s this woman’s name? And what do you want with her?

mm, hey-dah the bard drawled, his smile growing fonder at the memory of the wolfess.

aend ae aem, ah-bye-ooslee, heer vith aen offering. he reached under his tassels, and pulled out the sizeable red fish.

his head cocked to the side as his teeth held it by the tail. at no point did his elated mood abate, and now was shown in brown eyes squinted by good humour.

aend yeau are, frend?

He thought he heard his wife’s name in there but he couldn’t be totally certain. As before, he only caught a word here, another there, and had to use his admittedly limited contextual skills to fill in what he could.

Maybe you should call for her, see if she answers, Caracal suggested evasively.

He eyeballed the fish and said nothing further. He had no idea the creature had asked for his own name.

oh, vise sah-gestion! slavuj was quick to, again, stow away the fish beneath his coat - habit borne of cohabiting with thief-gulls.

the bard threw his head back, as a wolf does, but instead of the weaving melodies of a howl, his singing voice barked a call:

yoo-hoo, miss @Heda~!

as the echoes of a bark rung deep into the isle, he looked again at this fellow, tongue out in an open-mouthed smile.

baht, agaen, ai haev tchu ask - vho is yeau, islander?

an odd fatigue had kept heda from today's duties. she had answered it gratefully, curling herself in the den-bed above the lavender fields.
when the traveller's call rose up over the island, heda started. she blinked; her mouth tasted of sleep.
but she was combed and arranged by the time she joined her husband and "slavuj!" she cried in exultation, moving to embrace bis fragrant body with all the friendliness she bore.

Caracal stared at the strange sound Slavuj made. Well, if it spoke strangely, it made sense that its howl would be peculiar too. Speaking of which, he could only squint uncomprehendingly at the next batch of words out of the creature’s mouth. He only really caught the one: “islander.”

As if cued, Heda appeared with a cry of the creature’s given name. Caracal relaxed at her presence, then tensed when she embraced the weird beast. He let out a breath and coaxed the rigidity out of his muscles.

I’ll just be over here while you catch up with your… friend? Caracal said lightly, pointing up the beach and raising his brows in question as he met his wife’s eyes.