Blackfeather Woods us and them

The sheepdog trembled at the arrival of a third stranger, pale of fur and bright of eye. Her scars were helpful identifiers, but they did not detract from her ethereal, otherworldly beauty. Coelacanth noted the warmth exchanged between the Melonii girl and the piebald acolyte — the mouthed, “Welcome home,” — and her heart turned uneasily over in her chest. She watched Maegi cross the distance to Mou, and within her finely-wired rib cage, her hummingbird heart thrashed and protested — but her dainty paws were still. All will be well, bespoke the steadying calm of her body; her tufted ears stopped their nervous flickering, her plume hung with soft neutrality betwixt her hocks, and her hackles smoothed. Her Neptune eyes, when she turned them on Moorhen and `Io, were serene and clear. “Peace be,” she breathed.

It wounded her to see Mou turn and leave without another word, and perhaps this flash of hurt glimmered briefly within her cerulean eyes, but she stood her ground. There would be time later to grieve — for now, her priorities were her seawolves (a title that included Maegi, no matter where she chose to rest her wings). The Aralez did feel it was just about time for the raven and the marsh hen to return home to the isle, lonely as the journey would be without their Daggertooth in tow, and whuffed a soft sound of agreement with the words the bi-eyed girl uttered.