Gunther is more than reluctant to tell his friends about the visits.
Something deep inside him, maybe that small drop of magic in his blood, says it would be akin to betrayal.
Another week goes by, one where the three of them research and plan their next approach yet all the while he goes to that little corner by the sea just before the sun leaves the sky. And it's worth it because as the days have passed, he's slowly starting to see an outline of something that's there and yet not at the same time.
The figure mostly remains perched in a tree or on a rock watching him, he thinks, and although the image isn't clear, it looks like it could be a young woman whose arms slowly transition to wings and legs that change into those of a bird. And that spurs his imagination to the point he's starting to sketch the vague image he's been holding so close to his heart.
He starts to tell her what she's missed since the boat sank. Reminds her of life before and after they met. Memories, both painful and beautiful, given freely to break through the magic. But through it all, Gunther is careful to avoid names, just in case the wrong one reverses all their progress.
Because slowly he sees more than just an outline; he sees a flash of rich amber hair and feathers that have a touch of sunset gold and eyes that look at him like he's a mystery she needs to understand. By this point yet another week has passed, and while his friends get more frustrated by the day he thanks the heavens for the blessing of patience.