Wheeling Gull Isle New scents

there was curiosity stirring in the air today. the call had not been for her, but the sylph found her feet moving towards it's source nonetheless.

they so rarely seemed to get visitors here, she couldn't help but be interested in who was knocking at the door. and so the sprite danced her way towards the doorstep with a joyful spring in her step.

a silhouette formed in the distance, and with each step closer it became more refined. a man drenched in a coat of bourbon, eyes of a lemon twist.

she stopped her approach once there was a suitable distance between them and let her tail sway with warm hospitably.

the silence was left there for him to break, be it introduction or otherwise.