She was not given much time to reflect before the sound of another alerted her of his presence. She flicked an ear. She was not worried about the approach of a stranger, not even as she heard his footfalls draw nearer and nearer to her. She closed her eyes, breathed in, noted his scene. It was wise to remember a scent, to capture and hold it in one’s memory before any kind of social interaction played out.

She turned, finally allowing her curiosity to take over, as he stopped to look out over the cliffs, too. Jacqueline was not afraid to make the first move. ”I have never seen such a thing with my own eyes,” she said. ”The sea, nor an island so close to shore.” She of course knew what they were, based on stories of how they looked or smelled. But, once again mystified by this land she had found herself in, she’d had no idea that it was so close to her. Just a few moons ago, she’d been headed west in the hopes of maybe crossing paths with it, and now? Here it was, to the north. Strange indeed.

She may ask the man where they currently stood, if he seemed to know, but she would not ask where they were in the grander scheme of things. Part of her didn’t want to know. The other part of her was smarter than that—telling a stranger that she was utterly lost.