He observed her as her dark eyes lost their focus, creating an illusion that she was far away, even though she stood right before him. A flicker of concern crossed his face as he pondered where her thoughts had wandered—what distant island or remote place had captivated her imagination.

"I appreciate your patience, Sigurdr," she stammered, abruptly returning to the present. A warm smile spread across his whiskered lips at her words, offering her a sense of reassurance. "I'm glad you are here," he confessed softly, hinting at his desire for her to remain in this paradise with him, to build a life together beneath the shadowy jungle canopies and soaring macaws.

"Enough about me," he said, intrigued, eager to learn more about her background. How had they both found their way to this beautiful locale? "Tell me about yourself," he urged, focusing his icy blue gaze on her. She enthralled him, both intriguing and enchanting. Flicking his tail casually over his haunches, he settled in, eager to hear the tales she might share.

The Isles possessed a remarkable ability to bring together people from diverse backgrounds, transcending cultural differences and beliefs, whether or not they revered gods. This phenomenon had always fascinated the King of Paradise.