She leaned overtop her counter, “First, since you can talk, I have questions.”

Nodding, Córu replied, “As your guest, I should answer them.”

“Good. Then, let’s-”

“Unless I find one unsavory.”

Eilidh felt her face constrict, “Like that loch question?”

She nodded.

“Fine, we’ll just skirt around the important things,” Eilidh raised her hands in dramatic answer before quickly returning them to the counter, forcing back her blush as she noticed Córu’s stare, “What brought you here?”

“Unsavory.”

Rolling her eyes, Eilidh growled, “Really?!”

“I could say my feet, if that would help.”

Eilidh’s stare turned fierce, though she continued nonetheless, “What’s your name?”

“Córustrea.”

“No, no. That’s the name I gave you. What’s your name.”

The selkie’s eyes pulled forward, almost forceful, “That’s the name I choose; so long as I’m here, anyway. You’re my host, after all.”

“What, is this a selkie culture thing?”

“Yes.”

Eilidh’s face told Córu she didn’t buy it, but she didn’t exactly need her to; she simply needed to answer the question. The two remained in something of a stand-off for a moment as Eilidh sized the woman up, attempting to ascertain her truthfulness and even the worth in such a thing. If words weren’t as important as actions, the events of the night before trumped anything that was spoken today, and yet, she couldn’t help but feel a sting of trepidation now that she was afford the luxury of getting to know the woman she’d been harboring for a week. It suddenly dawned on her on much more easier this was back when this person – selkie – couldn’t speak… When deception wasn’t even a question to consider.

“I’m not here to cause you distress,” Córu suddenly spoke, noticing Eilidh’s silence and, apparently, having grown uncomfortable by it, “I understand I was taken in by you due to my injury. I appreciate you looking after me. Now, particularly with the ability of speech, I shouldn’t have much trouble should I leave and no longer remain a burden.” She supposed with a shrug. “That would also prove I’m not a figment of your imagination, correct? were I to leave?”

“I-” Eilidh watched with curled brow, worried at the prospect of such a being thrown to the wolves, “You know the language, but do you know mannerisms? idioms? dialects? When that gods-damned Grenadiers tune is played, do you know how to find the nearest rotten piece of produce to throw?”

Córu watched, growing increasingly befuddled as Eilidh shone weary, crossing her arms, “Why are you here?”

“Unsavor-”

“No. Why are you here?” Eilidh repeated, her voice more pleading, “What are you hoping for? to accomplish?”

The question appeared to confuse Córu, though, as Eilidh peered into those glistening eyes, she thought she saw surprise within them.

“I- I don’t…”

Eilidh sighed, “Look, I’m a teacher, right? Let’s just- Figure out what you want, okay? then we can help you figure out how to get there. You want to work with textiles in Auberdeen? Fine, Skyla knows people. You want to glean some fields up in the Highlands? I’m sure we can figure something out. You want to travel to England and become a financier? You’re on your own on both counts, I’m afraid.”

Smirking weakly at her humor, Córu nodded, listening intently as Eilidh went on, “Whatever you decide you want, I’ll see what I can do to help you get it, alright? I’m not about to send you out into the world to- I don’t know, get robbed and taken advantage of. I mean, look at you, you’re a selkie.”

“So?” she questioned sincerely.

Eilidh bit her lip, realizing she might have spoken out of turn, “I- That is to say- I mean, we have stories in our culture of selkies, you know, coming out of the waters and, uh- They get involved with bad people who steal their pelts and keep them from returning home, basically.” She rolled her eyes. “Bad men, mostly. You’re safe with me, I promise.”

Córu smiled, “I haven’t supposed otherwise.”

“Good,” Eilidh nodded, curious as to why she had replied so fervently and suddenly, “Well, then, I guess the next thing is you deciding what it is you want, so- I don’t know, just-” She shrugged. “I guess just figure that out for yourself.”

The selkie’s eyes kept upon her, “How did you figure it out?”

Chuckling suddenly, thinking back to her words to Julia, Eilidh shook her head, “Trust me, you don’t want my advice on the matter. All I can say for advice is to not take my advice.” She turned, beginning to prepare some coffee. “Maybe if I had a clue, myself, I’d have advice to give.”

Córu watched, her curiosity deep and hidden behind placidity. Eilidh began her brew, grabbing the kettle of boiling water and slowly pouring it over the grounds before noticing the selkie’s glance, “What, you want to taste it now? You didn’t before.”

“I did.”

Eilidh’s face warped into an expression of intense distrust, “No you- You’re telling me that whole recoiling thing was-”

“I was surprised, but nonetheless intrigued,” shrugged the woman.

“Well, count this as one of the most important reasons why language was evolved,” Eilidh’s voice struggled to maintain an even keel as she fought through exasperation. She waited for the brew to finish its work – almost ceremonial in this household – before grabbing a second mug and pouring enough to share, taking them to the counter. “Alright, then. Dutch imported coffee. So long as you’re here, we aren’t bothering with anything English.”

Eyes critiquing, Córu wondered aloud, “What’s the difference?”

“If I have to explain it, it will take too long,” was the low answer. Eilidh slid the half-filled mug toward the selkie. “It’s hot, so watch out. Let it cool for a bit.”

Córu did as instructed, the silence between them as they waited causing her to quiver with nerves, “So we just- wait?”

“That’s the idea.”

She stared at the mug, “For how long?”

“You’re really not the patient type, are you?”

Córu eyed her back, “I could same the same about you.”

“True,” Eilidh conceded rather quickly, “Though, when it comes to matters of spirituality and mindfulness, I think you’ll find me quite patient. For example, coffee and tea.”

“Spirituality?”

A shrug, “This can be spiritual. Why not?”

Córu seemed lost by the question, though she returned to the coffee, doing her best to keep from quivering. It proved difficult; her ears shook impatiently, independent of her head, a feature that caught Eilidh’s attention with tensing eyes. The selkie’s posture, normally so upright and still, began to twist and turn as she stood in place, only barely, but enough to become noticeable.

“You’re ruining the spiritual part,” complained Eilidh.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. Why are you so-” she examined the selkie, “-fidgety?”

Córu’s lips curled low, her frown more sad than annoyed, “It- Unsavory.”

“Well, I’d imagine, as a seal, you spend most of your life as prey depending on where you are. Sitting still probably isn’t the most ideal place for you to be,” supposed Eilidh, “Just- Is it something you’re conscious of? or are you just doing it just to do it?”

Córu watched her, almost distantly, trying to ascertain her meaning, though it occurred to Eilidh that it wasn’t her trying to discern her meaning, it was Córu trying to figure out why she had asked in the first place.

“I- don’t know.”

“Well, that coffee probably won’t help. It makes some people jittery. Not me; I’ve likely dulled my body to its effects,” Eilidh shrugged, grinning before pressing her lips to the mug, taking a sip, “Ahh… It should be good now.”

Córu gasped with relief, reaching for the mug and quickly going in for a sip, terrifying her host with her hasty advance though, to her credit, she didn’t spill, nor did she sip more than she needed to. The selkie’s nose wiggled as she took in the scent, her lips pursing into an odd shape.

“No good?”

Her brow trembled, “It’s- unique. Not entirely unpleasant, but- Strange. Beany.”

“Well, it does come from coffee beans,” shrugged Eilidh, taking another sip, “You’ve got a lot to learn, but- At least we can communicate. better than we were, anyway. I say we come up with general information until you figure things out, then we swap to more specific topics.”

She followed Córu’s hand sit the mug down, sliding it over toward the middle of the counter, “Tapping out?”

“It’s, uh-” she cleared her throat, “-strong.”

“More for me, then,” Eilidh grinned, pulling the mug over and pouring the coffee into her mug, “Are you planning, at least, on staying in Scotland, or-?”

Córu’s face had spun aghast, causing Eilidh to watch her with confusion upon noticing, tilting her head as she worked up the proper incredulity, “Uh, are you okay?”

“You- you’re drinking from my waters…”

Eilidh immediately dropped her head back atop her shoulders, “Oh, gods damn! Is this some selkie sex thing?!”

“It means you wish to-!”

Eilidh raised a hand, “Okay, stop! We’re going to be sharing space, alright? Two women, two worlds- none of this cultural stuff, alright? If there’s any misunderstanding, like this-” She raised her mug in demonstration. “-it gets brought up, okay? No assumptions. We could spend days going over selkie rites and human- whatever.”

Her brow raised, Córu inquired, “Is that why we aren’t to speak of last-”

“Precisely,” Eilidh groaned, rolling her eyes while turning away, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve had enough weirdness for one day. First, you can talk, second, I’m drinking your water or whatever.” She reached over her sink and poured out her coffee, just to be safe, before beginning to brew another mug. “Ground rules, alright? or, I guess, sea rules for you.”

Córu nodded, repeating the words, “Ground rules.”

Pouring out her coffee grounds, Eilidh suddenly felt the hair on her neck stand on end, causing her face to wince. She turned to find Córu examining the floor, stepping around and adjusting her perspective.

“It’s a figure of speech,” she sighed, “The rules and regulations of the home while we’re both residing here.”

Córu’s eyes flashed up toward her, the woman’s face unable to hide a blush, “I- I knew that.”

Somehow, she doubted that.