Wheeling Gull Isle i’m not superstitious, but i’m a little stitious
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Being vague about what happens in this thread. @Maegi

The tiny Groenendael set off with singleminded purpose: find Maegi!

Mindful of the girl’s panicked state, Coelacanth was careful to tread softly and slowly, never to run or chase. Now and again, she lifted her fox-fine muzzle to offer a searching whuff or a beseeching, two-“note” whine. In some respects, her manner of calling to Maegi was similar to the cry of a black-capped chickadee — but the vibrance of the whistled melody was diluted and faded.

Normally, she tried to bring an offering when she sought out one of her seawolves — she could not help but feel like she owed them something in exchange for the imposition — but as she searched for the ghost-pale female, she moved with such intensity that she could not pause even for politeness’ sake. The fire-and-indigo-eyed child was good at hiding, and Seelie did not want to roust her out — so when she felt she was near enough to be heard, “Maegi,” she breathed. “Little fish.”

A cramp pulled softly at her abdominal muscles and she turned toward one of the myriad rills spanning from the Skybowl. Pert pink tongue lapped at the sweet, clear water, dew clinging to her whiskers as she slipped in to wade and bathe. “Maegi, Maegi,” she whispered. “Peace be.”
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"why are you running away?"
........................................................................................................................................

Run. Run. Run.
Run or he'll get you again.

He's coming.
She's here. He's not far behind. He'll find you. He'll kill you.
 
He'll kill them all and it's your fault.

Maegi didn't slow down or look back, not even when she entered the trees. Gasping, panting, she dashed haphazardly through the island brush, sleek fur bristling. The wind screaming past her face as she heard the sound of her own cries, reverberating in her ears.

And her heart. So loud. Like drums.

Finally, she came to a halt and immediately flopped down, a blinding headache coming over her. She let out a primal screech, pushing her face into the dirt, claws dug deep. It wasn't the voices of the daedra that assailed her now but the living, very real voices of her past. Laughing. Shouting. Hollering profanities, each syllable stinging like nettles.

Then it all went quiet. Like a candle going out. And Maegi was left suddenly alone.

The girl let out a sobbing breath, the sound echoing off the trunks of the trees so alien to her. She still smelled Moonshadow, the faint whiff of home, but it was tainted now--tainted by him. She knew now that home would never be the same, that this was a scar she would carry for a lifetime--that he had marked her not only physically, but left an indelible stain on her soul, as well.

She had no notion of how much time had passed before she heard the quiet murmur of the sleek black wolf that ruled this island, calling for her. Her body exhausted, stiff, Maegi slipped from the darkness, eyes missing their usual spark. Coelacanth was submerged in cool water, ebony pelt billowing out around her.

The woman was magic, but not of the kind that ruled Maegi's lore. No, this was a different kind of spirit, one of brighter things, though the color of her fur might suggest otherwise. Her voice was like the first drops of rain to kiss a fire-ravaged place, tentative but ultimately healing. Her eyes the color of the sky--but brighter, somehow, and deep as Maegi imagined the sea was. Coelacanth, was. . .

The girl sat with a sigh that was almost a whimper, near the edge of the water. She did not speak first. She didn't have the words. She hoped that Coelacanth would.
suspended between survival and civility
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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.

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Coelacanth met Maegi’s approach with a meek eagerness to please that belied her station. Tufted ears smoothed sleekly against her gently sloping skull as she emerged with inobtrusive slowness from the burbling waterway, but tipped forward with fluttering interest as a sigh, just on the edge of a whimper, winnowed from the girl’s ruined mouth. “Maegi,” she whispered, her silky susurrus overridden by `Io’s worry-riddled utterance. One finespun ear backturned upon her crown to acknowledge the svelte guardian’s approach, but Seelie did not take her eyes off the girl with the mismatched eyes. Like a beached sea lion, she dipped her body low and inched her muzzle forward until the barest tips of her whiskers brushed against Maegi’s sound forepaw. She didn’t want to frighten the guppy away — she didn’t! — but she craved the physical contact, which always seemed to make her comfort clear when her frail words failed. “Safe, Maegi. Peace,” she vowed softly.

“All Undersea make safe — and — um — ” she grasped wildly for Moorhen’s thinking word to convey that she was not finished with her thought. “Maegi ever safe, ever.” She hoped the girl would understand that no matter where she went, even if she decided to leave Undersea one day, there would always be a place for her here and she would never want for allies or friends.
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Venninne came, too, but kept her distance, looking concerned. Maegi dipped her muzzle at the woman, allowing her to come forward, then turned her gaze to Coelacanth, who had began to speak in her halting, fractured way. The seawolf touched her muzzle to her forepaw--only barely!--her voice a gentle murmur. She spoke of peace, and safety. Things that had eluded Maegi, these past months.

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice small. "For running away. They aren't--they're not who hurt me. She just. . .she was there. Moonshadow. When Skullchaser hurt me. She reminded me, and I--well, I didn't know what to do, and so I ran, and I'm sorry--" The words came tumbling out of her mouth, faster than she intended, and she cut herself off at her second apology, firming her mouth.

"I want to go home," Maegi whispered, shaking her head. "But not with her. She saved my life, but she reminded me of him. Of that mountain." And they'd be indelibly linked forever, through no fault of her own, nor Moonshadow's. She was beyond grateful that the black-furred woman had saved her life, but at what cost? Dead, her mind would be no more. Now she would live with those memories for the rest of her life, however long it was.
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The sheepdog shook her head mutely at Maegi’s apology, luminous Neptune eyes shimmering with an otherworldly sorrow at what the young girl had suffered. “Peace be,” she breathed again, though her heart lurched painfully at Maegi’s forlorn whisper: “I want to go home.” When was her island going to be good enough to be considered a truehome for the wolves she loved? It seemed Undersea was destined to be a safe harbor — but a place others inevitably departed from. Her pessimistic faith in this would be solidified in the months to come, though she did not know it now. “Blackfeather, I know,” she whispered haltingly. “W-W-Wolfskull — ” it wracked her heart, even now! “ — I know.” How a creature as soft and gentle as Maegi had come from such a place, she couldn’t fathom, but she knew one thing: “‘Reminded me,’ I know.” Hazarding an assumption that the girl with the mismatched eyes would not flee, the atramentous Aralez inched closer.

Tapered muzzle outstretched, and if Maegi showed no revulsion, Seelie’s lips would brush and then nibble against one pale shoulder. “When you are ready,” she whispered, parceling out each word with a considerable amount of effort, both physical and emotional, “with Stockholm, Moorhen, `Io, me — safe guide home.” She did not want Yakone in the vicinity of the darkenwood and would enforce her dominance if `Io tried to defy her on that point, but she thought perhaps the winter raven would trust the Earthstalker to keep her daughter safe on the island.

“Maegi, take time,” she gently encouraged the grimacing ghost. “Will better.” A spasmodic shudder danced its way down her spine as the specters from her own past gathered in close.
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Blackfeather, I know. Her ears folded back as the words sunk in, her eyes widening with excitement--and fear. She knew Blackfeather?! And the cave of which she spoke. . .Maegi couldn't be sure, but she thought she had passed by it, once or twice, in the tunnels. Her breath came short as she noticed the fear in Coelacanth's eyes.

She had heard the echoes of screams, in the tunnels. From the daedra. . .or other living souls? Maegi was afraid she had found her answer.

The girl dipped her head, shaking it in an infinitesimal nod. She wanted to go home. . .yet, at the same time, she felt abandoned by the Woods, and all who dwelled in them. Moonshadow had come looking for her--not Sascha, her kin. Nyx, her friend. Kove, her mentor. None of them had cared enough to find her. Else they would have come with the black-furred she-wolf, not the pale stranger that had appeared in their stead.

Meanwhile, the seawolves had given her a home, fed her, appreciated her. . . She missed home, but maybe she only missed the home she remembered--not the home it became, after the war. The home without Ramsay and Euron, Cicero, Miraak. The home indelibly changed by intruders, by violent conflict.

"Thank you," Maegi whispered, lost for words. She looked up at Venninne, and smiled, giving Coelacanth the barest touch of her ruined muzzle before curling into the embrace of the tall, brown woman. "Thank you for letting me stay here."
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The atramentous sheepdog watched Maegi shrewdly, her seasparkle eyes a curious mixture of piercing intensity and soft compassion. She watched her words sink in, one by one, like black pebbles drifting to the bottom of a pale grey pool. Not even Stockholm knew the extent of the abuse she’d suffered there, and she wasn’t about to tell the already frightened girl in detail. She simply murmured, “Blackfeather came to Teaghlaigh — came for blood. Teaghlaigh call me, Blackfeather take me.” One tufted ear fanned out and to the side in a display of lingering uneasiness. “Hurt me many,” she whispered, her silky susurrus even more subdued than usual. She was ashamed of these memories; absurdly, she felt dirty and ruined, and partially to blame.

“Girl help me free,” she concluded when she could speak again. “Green eye,” she breathed, tipping her muzzle to the right, and “blue eye,” tipping her muzzle to the left. “Pretty, fur like starshine.” She exchanged a fond glance with `Io at the nickname she herself had been given.

Shaking away the thoughts lest Abraxas and Atshen meet her once more in her dreams, “Maegi, I am happy — if you ever stay,” she breathed honestly, “but when you want, safe bring Blackfeather.” She had sworn never to go back there, but for this girl, here Guppy, she would break that vow. As long as Maegi was safe, healthy, and happy, Coelacanth would be satisfied.
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Maegi began to crumple as if wounded herself, each word of Coelacanth cutting into her like claws. Hurt me many. She was not stupid. She knew what ugliness, what evil, resided within the dark woods. She knew that her family had done wrong. But never before--to her knowledge--had she met the gaze of one who'd been wronged by Blackfeather. . .and a wolf she liked, at that.

She felt an intense mixture of emotions, shame chief among them. But intrigue, hidden in the depths. Teaghlaigh. She folded the name away in her brain for later use. And at the description the inky woman gave, a look of wonder bloomed over her face, realization sinking in.

"Nyx," she whispered, the pretty face coming immediately to mind. Of course the gentle Apaata temptress had helped Coelacanth. Her respect for her friend went up tenfold. "I know her. She still lives there."

Then Coelacanth spoke again, and Maegi shook her head, almost frantic, looking up at the leader with sorrowful eyes. "No," she burst out. "You-- you don't have to go back. I don't want you to have to go back." She swallowed thickly, sniffling a little. "I know. . .I know they hurt others. Others came to hurt us, too." It was the first time she'd ever talked about the war to a stranger. "Please, Coelacanth. . .I promise I'll go back alone. Only when I'm ready to.

"I know what it's like to be hurt,"
Maegi whispered. "You don't have to go through it again, just to take me home."
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The sheepdog cocked her head as if Maegi had said something very confusing, and then a warm, gentle smile spread across her features and arched her eyes. She leaned forward and made to lick at the girl’s ears, then preen the underscore between them in a manner meant to soothe — but if the young Melonii found her ministrations displeasing, she would immediately draw away to give her space. “Another day,” she breathed softly. They didn’t need to talk about this now — it wasn’t like Maegi was leaving tomorrow, after all. On the island, it felt like the seawolves had all the time in the world to plan and heal. “Not worry, small, dear Maegi, little dove,” she urged.

`Io, clearly moved by Maegi’s story as well as Seelie’s brief allusion to abuse, offered a thready whine. Coelacanth stretched upward to bathe the woman’s face in nibbles and kisses. “Not worry, lovely `Io,” she whispered, the bridge of her muzzle knocking briskly against the underside of the raven’s chin in a plucky little, “Chin up!” sort of way. Perhaps both of them would feel better if they were reunited with Poppy’s babies — an aching pressure told Seelie it was almost time again for them to feed, and if she was feeling it, so was the island’s guardian. “Life move and move,” she commented. “Maegi and `Io walk far and far. Now, rest. Now, heal.”
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Coelacanth was grace embodied, and Venninne, strength. All of her previous role models had come from the Woods, and while they were noble creatures, it was impossible to deny the darkness within them all. These two women were good, the first truly good creatures she'd been around for an extended period of time. It was baffling, and it took her aback, awash in a tidal wave of nameless emotions.

Maegi cuddled up to Venninne, closing her eyes in momentary bliss as Coelacanth drew her tongue over her ears--no one had touched her so for a long time, not since childhood. A childhood she barely remembered, after all this time. Perhaps this was a second chance at those halcyon, sun-filled days.

"Thank you," she whispered, looking between the two of them. She made no move to leave, remaining by their sides for as long as they would allow. Whatever demons were in their pasts, they did not linger here. The island was safe harbor, a place to heal.