[color=ed145b]CORRINE DOOLAK[/color] - night time -- crash site to Far Harbor

"Avery", Steve said slowly, "That explains it....I'm so sorry, Corrine." He squeezed Corrine's hand gently.

Corrine nodded and sniffed, again.  "Thanks.  Seein' her reject comin' home was heartbreakin', but this...this is worse.  Now she'll never return to us," she replied miserably.  Steve began to shift his weight and seemed to want to stand up.  Corrine wrapped her arm around him to brace and assist, slowly bringing him up to his feet.  She left her arm around him, as he slowly surveyed the aftermath of the struggle.  Castner and the other James seemed to poke around the wreckage and talk shop about equipment...or weapons...or weaponized equipment...hell if she knew what most of it meant.

[i]There's something to be admired in the simplicity of a pike...[/i]

"Corrine, if we're taking her back to bury her...", Steve said, nodding at Avery and breaking her train of thought, "We oughta take the critter, too and bury them together....it's what both of them would have wanted."

Corrine looked over to Avery's body and watched as Longfellow knelt over her, muttering something.  Her gaze shifted to the body of the tiny gulper that lay dead next to her.  "Uhh.  Well, right.  Okay."  She'd ask him what he meant by 'what both of them would have wanted,' later.  Besides, she'd heard of weirder...

Longfellow directed the townsfolk and soon enough they'd packed up the bodies and salvage they wanted to bring back to town.  Corrine said very little as she stayed very close to Steve, almost trudging her way back down towards town.  The length of the day was starting to weigh heavily on her shoulders and she began to dream of her bed.  What if she went to sleep and when she woke up, all of this had been some weird dream?

She led Steve through the gates of The Hull, directly through the square and into the clinic.  Corrine gently pushed him down onto a cot and swept some hair off his forehead.  "You can rest, now, okay?  The doc is gonna check you over and fix you up, an' I'm gonna stay right --"

"Something's coming!" cried one of the Hull watchmen.

"..o'course it is," Corrine muttered.  She looked over at Steve and gave him a pained look.  "Better go see what the ruckus is."  She stood up, picked up her modified spear, and stepped out to march back towards the Hull once more.  She climbed the stairs and elbowed her way between a couple other harborfolk and rubbed her eyes, tiredly.

Looking out towards the ruins, a single light bobbed and weaved through the old town and towards The Hull. As the light grew closer, it became clear that it was coming from a lantern. The lantern, unsurprisingly, was held by someone. A cultist wearing some type of painted white armor and cloak stepped out into a clearing in the fog. The face of the figure was covered, not by the usual masks, but by a helmet.

At least, it looked like a helmet.  It was dark, it was getting late, and damn was Corrine starting to feel exhausted.

The figure spoke with a voice that was filled with both conviction and authority.  "Hold your fire," the armored cultist asked, a male voice audible through the helmet, "I'm not here to fight. I'm here to retrieve the bodies of our fallen brothers and sisters. The one you know as 'Avery', we know by another name. She is not the friend you once knew, I'm sorry to say. Captain Avery was dead long before today. The woman you killed...should be with her family, not with you. Do us this kindness...and we will return the favor in kind." 

The hairs on the back of Corrine's neck stood up as it was slowly evident that several pairs of eyes had turned towards her.  She glanced side to side and saw that indeed, the harborfolk seemed to have each looked to her, expecting her to respond.  She swallowed on a dry throat.  "What," she began, though it came out as a combination of a croak and a squeak.  Corrine cleared her throat and tried, again.  "Avery was one of ours, born 'n' raised on the Island, no matter what she...what she [i]chose[/i] later," she called down.  "She may have spent 'er last days...elsewhere, but her family, her [i]real[/i] family, are the folks who stand with me here and behind this wall."

She started to shake.  Corrine's emotions were beginning to catch up to her, as well as her fatigue.  "Her roots," she began, her voice breaking, "her roots are here, with us.  I'm sorry fer your loss, but our loss is deeper.  Simple as that."

Corrine paused, to realize people were still staring at her.  "Ah...oh, I guess I mean...no.  Ya can't have Avery."  She looked around to the stony faces of the other harborfolk, and suddenly felt irritated.  "Well, ain't I right?!"