Wheeling Gull Isle I didn't drown; I couldn't seem to die

The traces of Vesper had been just that. Traces. Nothing came of them, and she remained alone, wishing she had just stayed with Bronco in the first place. Where had he gone? Back to Fennec? To his son?

It didn't matter. She'd left. And she was alone. 

And Blueberry returned to the only place where she hadn't felt so alone and where everything had been right. She came to mope and sulk and fill her belly with dead fish. 

Except, here, solitude would not be her companion. 

She sniffed at the borders on the edge of the island, up to her ankles upon the slightly submerged sand bridge. A scowl painted her face. She was in tumult, waves around her churning as a storm came in. 

The moon was hidden, and her pale figure was a bright blotch in the darkness of night. 

She howled, hoping to find a place to sleep before the thunder and rain rolled by in earnest.

tired, yet sleep did not find him yet.

the air churned with the coming storm and he found himself checking in around the isle. assuring everyone was prepared for the brief storm that may roll over.

although on his way to check in on young mo, a howl rolled over the isle.

so her path turned and cut, out through the greenhills down towards the connector.

and here was a young pale mark against the isle. ghostly. yet he regarded them with warmth all the same.

has the storm sent you our way?

A strange-looking man arrived, lanky, with fur she'd never seen before—curly. He cut a dark, ragged appearance in the stormy night, and asked about the weather.

Feeling her ankles begin to freeze, she stepped onto the beach, keeping her posture low and deferent, and replied, No, I sent me your way. I was born here.

Blueberry's eyes wandered along the shadowy ridge of the island's core, ocacasionally illuminated by lightning. When I was here last, no one lived on the island. Who are you? How many are there?

And is Vesper among your ranks?

well then.

he had not expected such an answer but he welcomed it all the same, with a smile even. although he held curiosity for how she had been born here and how it had been empty the last time she lived here.

unusual things.

bartholomew, leader of sweetharbor. he introduced, but motioned for her to follow him further inland. she would pose no threat to the harbor. he was certain of this in the way those who loved the island, protected it as such.

a small but strong group. he had not done a specific headcount recently — and the woman who lied in purgatory within the lion's den hardly counted as a moving body. and who am i offering shelter to amidst the storms?

he would begin the small trip to the southern woods if she would follow.

Sweetharbor. She'd never heard that name in her life. Still, she accepted that life had probably moved on since they'd left, and she was probably less informed about the goings-on of the island than she should be.

Blueberry, she told Bartholomew, following him deeper into the territory. My mother's name was Maegi, if you knew her. Father was Mou. They lived here. We were happy.

And she was rambling.

Thunder rolled, lightning arcing across the sky. She felt the rain heavy in the air and hunched her shoulders, eager to get to shelter as soon as possible. What's your pack like? she asked, pitching her voice above the din.

blueberry.

had the name come before or after her eyes had taken to her namesake? he could humor himself with the thought in private. for more names followed and he found he knew nothing of them.

not a soul was here when i arrived, perhaps there was a touch of something softer in his voice now. something akin to giving an apology — but he knew not if that was what she looked for.

a safe place, a haven. sanctuary. whatever you may call it. some of us are religious and follow the teachings of God, a pause to allow her to consider this. did she know of Him? was she another wanderer in spirit too? it is not a requirement in order to stay here, though.

Oh, God. No pun intended.

She had heard enough from her mother about gods. About religion. She thought it best to turn tail and run now, lest she plunge herself into a similar cult. She wasn't interested; she wasn't keen on it at all.

But. . .Vesper.

And sleep, a dry, deep sleep. And so she followed.

My mother believed in gods, she replied briefly. Didn't tell us much about them, though. And, uh. . . Well, I'm just looking for my sister. Maybe she's here.

Her feet were dragging against the sand. Exhaustion was taking hold, her vision blurring. She followed Bartholomew's curly dark form as best she could, but her attention was waning fast.

if you have a name, i can tell you.

he offered as he found a spot for her. a place once used by somebody, but empty tonight. nestled with grasses and worn between roots. the thick canopy would provide shelter with ease. more so than the hills might receive tonight.

even if not, you may rest here. sweetharbor can be a shelter for you as long as you like, should you respect the people of it.

She didn't hesitate. Vesper, she intoned, eyes boring into the wise man's.

Even if not.

Even if not, she felt the weight of everything on her shoulders and limbs; she sagged down in the sandy ground, and she stifled yawns with much effort.

And she was born here. She belonged.

I respect, Blueberry shot back softly, and suppressed a sigh.

vesper.

i do not know anyone with that name, but meet the faces here in the daylight. perhaps there was hope still. perhaps blueberry might find what she looked for under a different name in a familiar place.

some part of him wondered if she might leave outright if no one was familiar.

when you are ready, i can bring something to eat too.

lavender too, he figured. a gift of goodwill.

Okay, Blueberry responded, hoping that perhaps Vesper had disguised her name—for whatever reason—and they would reunite once more.

Eat. Eat. Eat—

I am hungry, she admitted, and felt her stomach growl in agreement. She staggered along behind Bartholomew, despite the presence or not of her sister.

She was so tired.

And starving.

And cold.

Blueberry's knees were trembling.

feel free to consider it a fade here or in a reply? <3

then you will eat.

he offered warmly, before a roll of thunder seemed to wash over the island itself.

settle where you are most comfortable. i will find you and return with food before the storms turn too sour.

meat, lavender. things of comfort. things he found were most well received as gifts.