Wheeling Gull Isle Another second lost with every falling grain

Set for March 20. All welcome, but preferably fast paced, as her condition is time-sensitive.

At an asymmetrical limp, Niamh made her way away from the Caldera and would arrive at the landbridge she'd seen once before as a faint shade of who she had once been. Years ago she had danced here along the shore with gentle Coelacanth, whose doleful, sparkling gaze she recalled now, and the promise that she had made that Niamh would be welcome to live on Wheeling Gull Isle with her. 

The morning was grey, and the winds ushered the waves to crash against the landbridge as she crossed toward the island, though she knew the rising water level meant that the tide was rising. Ocean spray soaked her pelt, laying her blonde fur flat against her bulging sides. Her stomach growled fiercly, and seemed to spur the children she was carrying into a frenzy. 

She groaned as she reached the island, and felt a wave lap at her ankles. She would not roam further inland, but called out- requesting with frail urgency that someone come to greet her.

The golden shape hobbled to the island under the cyclopean watch of Mou, who had caught a glimmer of yellow fur by chance.

When the call came he was roaming a nearby beach for anything new the tide had brought in, but he stopped as he recognized the voice. Mou was some distance away; a band of weathered trees sat on a hill of coarse wheat-like grass between him and the sound, so he would take time to reach the area the stranger called from.

On the way he kept an eye out for Maegi or Hua, unsure of where anyone else was. He had taken more time to himself of late.

The water lapped at her ankles again. She moved, staggering forward so that it might not chill her, until she remembered hearing that salt water could be good for healing injuries. It was early in the year yet, and she felt chilled enough by her low blood sugars, having only been able to scavenge along the way. But for the sake of her leg she thought it might be beneficial to soak it. 

So she stepped back, and lowered her foot so that the waves could gently sweep back and forth, the water rising and falling against her leg. The cold actually felt nice on her leg, though it began to make her teeth chatter.

Mou moved deftly among the trees until he saw the gold flash again. He slowed to observe the beach a bit, more cautious than probably necessary, and then resumed the patrol down from the grassy knoll to the sand. His long legs made short work of the rest of the distance - but as he came closer mou regonized the rounded shape of Niamh. He dared not get too close.

She looked distracted. He could hear chattering and tilted his head like a dog with a whistle, ome way, then the other, before realizing it was her teeth chattering. Mou was still nervous. He looked quickly over his shoulder for anyone else, then to Niamh, uncertain.

getting this in my threadlog

She had been put in charge in the leaders' absence, and while she kind of resented them for it, it was also nice to pick up the duties of which she'd been accustomed to at Blackfeather Woods. Alas, Maegi was becoming more pregnant by the day, and that slowed her down considerably. By the time she arrived, Mou was there, and she gave him a gentle butt of her head to the shoulder before looking ahead. 

Her blood froze. 

Mou, she said quietly, from the corner of her mouth. Step back. Go back to the den.

But what good would it do? The enemy was already here. Their jig was up. Her eyes raked over the rounded, sodden golden form. She'd recognize her anywhere. She'd counted this woman chief among her nemeses for many seasons now. 

She squared her shoulders, striding forward and giving the Redhawk a gimlet stare. What is your business here?

As if she were any other wolf, simply seeking refuge.

Through the misty vapour of ocean spray a figure appeared like a memory from a haunting dream. No others had she seem who could have been mistaken for  the male who had once been her closest friend and confidante when she had first come to this valley. She regarded him with a gaze that was tired of surprises like this. How fit was it, now, that she should be reunited with another wolf that Towhee had pushed away? And that she had pushed away, too- hunted to the edge of the cliffs. 

And the day they'd crossed paths wordlessly in the Shadewood, he had drawn the leering panther away from her and into the wilderness. 

Beside him loomed another who caused Niamh to wonder if she was living a dream forged in her memories...But if she had been, she would have willed for Colt to reappear too. Another wolf that Towhee had pushed away...And that she had pushed away too. 

The cycle was bound to continue but she felt a recapitulation, now, in seeing Screech and Maegi together. She did not miss the concern with which Maegi canted her head toward him- saying something? She couldn't hear it over the waves. She also did not miss the fact that Maegi, like her, was with child. Still, she seemed to feel safe enough now to approach, when once she might have shied away from the blonde warrior. Perhaps she saw, and respected, the truce they ought to share out of concern for their unborn children. 

"Seeking sanctuary," She said. Amongst these two? If she had to. Her children needed the safety of a pack. And perhaps nestled amongst vipers she might be shielded from any Redhawks who went looking for her. She could become one of them, if it was for the sake of her children, now that she had severed her ties to the Redhawks. "I was told once I would always be welcome on this island though...I don't know if that wolf still lives here. Her name was Coelacanth." She said, hoping that even if Seelie wasn't around anymore, perhaps her name might mean enough.

The presence of Maegi buoyed him so that he let his doubts slip away, even as she showed her own concern by warning him away. As she moved on ahead Mou did not move; he knew that leaving would be a good idea if Niamh was here to finish what was started, but he could not mistake the signs he stood in witness to. Niamh was pregnant. That gave him pause - as did her announcement of a shared friend.

Gone now, he says softly, taking some bold strides to Maegi's flank where he stood protectively. His expression is sombre. But... if she promised, she had a reason. For us too.

He turned ever so slightly to spare a glance at Maegi, unable to focus on her shape in his periphery, as he did not want to turn from Niamh in full. She looked... Tired. Heavy, plus she nursed a wounded ankle from what he could tell. What was she doing here - so far from her home?

Mou glances then to Maegi and has a queer expression on his face, like he is pleading with her for something. Nervously optimistic about something. She should stay and rest.

She opened her mouth, but it was Mou who spoke for the two of them. She gave him a cross look; he ought to have left. Seelie's name had softened her slightly, and when she addressed Niamh, it lacked the venom it once might have carried. 

To turn you away, pregnant and injured, would go against everything I believe in, Maegi said, her voice tired, resigned. Come on. . .let's get you somewhere warm and dry, at least.

She waded into the surf, gesturing at Mou to do the same. If this was some sort of ruse, it was a strange one. The woman really was hurt; she caught a glimpse of the broken leg and winced, thinking of her own injuries. 

Maegi stood straight, pressing against the golden pelt. Lean on us. We'll lead the way.

Her stomach tightened, and she felt the babes kick. Was she sentencing her children to death before they were even born?

Niamh's heart sank. She thought all hope she might have had in being safe by using the kind woman's offer might have fallen through, and yet some hope persisted- Screech seemed to have recognized the name. Maybe therr was hope for her yet, if claiming Coelacanth's name was a way, perhaps, in earning just enough trust. 

Maegi, had relaxed too, at the mention of the name. And she was swift to offer Niamh the sanctuary she'd begged for, and moved to her side. Niamh could feel her breaths quicken, and her throat became incredibly dry as she was suddenly flanked by two wolves she had once wanted to chase to the ends of the earth. "I can't- She sobbed. "Thank you, enough, and-" And she would need to apologize but she was far too exhausted and flummoxed. She felt a nudge against her side and looked down, over her shoulder before she realized what'd happened. A puppy had moved. "Yours or mine?" She asked, and almost felt as though she might laugh. Santuary, and from enemies- it was enough to make her feel as though she could sboth cry and laugh- and finally, get some sleep knowing she'd potentially found a new home. 

She moved with them, and decided not to put much weight on her leg. She'd overdone it in coming this far They helped pull her out of the shallows, and she looked over Screech's shoulder a moment, to see the landbridge begin to disappear under the hungry tide-and the mainland beyond that. Unable to help herself, she pressed her forehead into Screech's shoulder to block the sight out, and meep herself from having a breakdown. She pulled in a few breaths. 

For her children, she would have to move forward. And whether or not it flipped her world upside down, so that her enemies became her friends and her friends became her enemies, she would do it as long as her children would be safe.

With Maegi on one side and Mou swiftly filling the other, they made a white-gold sandwich out of Niamh. It felt odd to be physical with someone who had tried so desperately to murder him; as soon as his skin came in contact with her own he trembled, which was thankfully lost among the bodily processes of the women. Something moved in them and they shared a moment. Mou adjusted to the sensation of being a support, and began the careful process of extracting Niamh from the shallows to seek shelter among their people.

She sounded weary. Heartbroken, maybe. It was not a version of Niamh that Mou ever thought he would see and he sympathized even without her story; together they would keep her safe. She nudged at him, pressing her face against Mou's shoulder and he almost froze in surprise, but made himself relax for the sake of the unborn. The twisted pink scar upon his throat was protected by the black leather collar he wore, but he still felt a sick sensation and an imagined warmth from where the wound sat.

He had to put that all aside for the sake of the future. Maybe this would be a chance to reconnect with her and make things better.