It was with some trepidation that Natiya had taken residence back up on the solitary island at the edge of Glorall. Returning to it had not been as hard as she had figured, after having eaten the meal Elohim had helped her get (or gotten for her really). Any meal that did not consist of fish was a feast for her sense after having so long foraged for whatever came near or hid in the sand. Seafood had fast become her number one most detested item in life. She craved the hot flesh of a newly downed deer and was determined to hunt one in the upcoming weeks. Just as soon as she figured out if it really WAS safe to come out of hiding.

Which brought her back to why she had come back to the island. She had decided to stay within Glorall for the time being. Elohim had been surprisingly kind. It was not the first time a wolf had been kind to her in life, but it was the first time that she felt free enough to let another. In a sense, Elohim was helping her find herself merely by offering a voice. Even a voice that she had not known she wanted and struggled against. She thinks about him for a time, sculpted head laid across her dainty legs. The way he had offered up his neck and shoulder so calmly, an outlet for abuse. It was disturbing and not. She had, after all, lived the vast majority of her life in the shadow Blackthorne and such cruel and capricious behavior was a daily occurrence with him.

Still, her brother had never turned fang against her and she had only turned her fangs against those he told her to. Now she was her own puppet master and her strings dangling dejectedly around her. But she felt more content with a full belly and knowing Elohim was on the other side. He was nice and handsome. Wait, handsome? She feels hot in her fur at the thought, turning her mind away from such thinking, though it tries to spin back several times until she huffs and lifts her head.

Pale blue eyes squint in confusion for it almost looked like a body popped up over a wave then disappeared. She tilts her head slowly, wondering what sort of sea creature was near. She was safe enough unless some beast crawled from the depths. It isn’t until Sarabi is on her little strip of beach that Natiya realizes it is a wolf. Her heart stops them stutters a staccato rhythm as she jolts to her feet the crouches back down, afraid. The figure stands up shakily and she whines, low in her throat. Blackthorne. The silver muzzle, the black fur!

On the verge of darting towards the sea, ready to make a break against the current that would no doubt sweep her under and drown her, she freezes as Sarabi coughs, her sound distinctly lighter. Female. Hyperventilating, Natiya stands frozen, fear making her legs shake for a moment until Sarabi’s head lifts. She gasps, surprise on her face, horror almost. She thought her mother was dead… Sarabi had disappeared and in time, Natiya had thought she had went off to die or Underidge had done something. She knew about Paravana so it seemed the sort of thing he would do.

”Mother?!” The word comes out on her lyrical voice in disbelief.