Wheeling Gull Isle You Dream About Going Up There, But That is a Big Mistake
Crabs?! Giant crabs?! That definitely sounded like a creature from his worst nightmares, ranking right up there with ponies and Bambi.
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Ooc — Bryndel
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#1
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Driftwood had been ferrying shells, one by one, all morning. He liked seashells, and he thought that Coelacanth and hopefully Stockholm did too—they had chosen to live on an island, after all!—but of course right now they were a little busy focusing on other things. So Driftwood had taken it upon himself not only to help out with the hunting where he could and build up the pack stores, but also to gather them these seashells. Anchored to the densite pretty securely by the demanding little ones, Driftwood thought she wouldn't mind at all having some lovely decor to spruce the den up a little more and vary the scenery better. Besides which, they smelled nicely of the ocean, and wouldn't that be a beautiful aide not only to soothe Seelie's nose and remind her of the waters she loved, but also to introduce the little ones to the scents of the wider world in which they would soon be living?

He had found a particularly large fan shell that he was now carrying up the slight incline to add to the growing pile, when a sudden shift in the wind caught his attention. He hadn't spent very much time on the eastern end of the island as of yet, but the wide pale sands leading up to the area he'd heard called Coaltree Rise seemed quite a bountiful spot to go hunting shells. He was distracted from his quarry however by the unfamiliar scent he could taste on the breeze. He shot the pile of seashells a quick, puzzled glance, but they hadn't budged an inch in all the time he'd been here and were obviously not the source. He trotted forward somewhat more cautiously with the blue fan still clutched carefully between his teeth; it had only one tiny hole in its broad, gently-curving surface, a small pinprick that was really only visible if you squinted closely, and Driftwood definitely and particularly didn't want to lose it to some thieving seabird or something.

His neck curved a little closer to the ground, his tail streaming straight out behind him like a banner as he felt the ground beneath his paws turn from sand to coarse grass to lusher, flower-dotted verdance that gently tickled at his toes. None of these were quite the smell he was looking for, however. That scent's source was a little further away, and the moment Driftwood saw them, he froze in place, and then, legs wobbling slightly, dropped flat to his belly. He stared at the herd in amorphous dread, his eyes following the lazy flick of their tails, the proud long muzzles that raised toward the sky occasionally before dropping to the earth to browse the foliage once more. But most of all, his gaze riveted to the quick stomp of a hoof, probably only reacting to some particularly pesky fly or other, but the sight nonetheless raised some unspoken choking fear from deep within Driftwood. He sat there clutching his seashell hard as he found his rigid body suddenly quite unwilling to move at all, save for the sudden violent flinch that quivered through him as the shell clamped in his jaws suddenly cracked in twain with a loud, harsh SNAP, and left behind a bodywide involuntary trembling in its wake. He stared at the horses with fixed dread as he wondered if the hooved menaces might have a little something more to say about the noise.
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#2
The horses were becoming more and more familiar to her, like members of a new family--a large, incredibly different-looking family, but a family nonetheless. She had studied them further, after her first excursion here with Reed, beginning to memorize their different coat colors. Some of them, Maegi had even named. Marigold, the mare with the flaxen mane, and Cedar, the imperious brown stallion. . .

Her eyes flashed as she saw movement nearby, and her gaze fixed on Driftwood, whose quivering was perceptible even from this distance. Giving him a small chuff so as not to alarm him further, Maegi crept from the long grass to sidle up beside him, sitting down and looking over at him with a mixture of amusement and comfort in her eyes.

"They're not going to hurt you," Maegi assured him, dipping her muzzle at the horses. "Not unless you hurt them first. I think they're more scared of us, anyway, even though we're smaller." After all, the elk feared the wolves, though the sizes differed. They were the predators, the hooved animals the prey.
Crabs?! Giant crabs?! That definitely sounded like a creature from his worst nightmares, ranking right up there with ponies and Bambi.
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Ooc — Bryndel
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#3
His eyes were wide as the full moon, and his brow was carved deep with evidence of his fear and worry as his gaze flickered to the face of the female who bellied up beside him in the grass. A storm of emotions swirled around the motionless Driftwood: he was somewhat incredulous that this smaller, lighter-furred wolf could be so blasé about the huge flashing hooves of the creatures before them. Driftwood couldn't put it into words but somehow he knew right down to his bones that it was neither so simple nor so safe as the young lady was trying to claim. He didn't know if it was deliberate misinformation she was trying to spread, or if she was perhaps just naïve, but either way Drift couldn't find it in him to believe her. ...He also couldn't remember if he had met this packmate or not, although her scent didn't seem entirely unfamiliar at least... his mind was consumed by much bigger concerns at the moment than social niceties like trying to remember names or offering up polite greetings. His eyes were drawn inexorably back to the objects of his fear, and he nearly had a heart attack as he saw one of them, a big reddish one with a dandelion-colored mane, lift its head to look in their direction for a moment.

Driftwood's dark claws unconsciously dug frightened furrows deep into the earth as he stared at the hooved creatures. He couldn't will his tongue to obey him all that well, but he did at least manage a feeble whine in response to her words. His breathing came harsh and hard, and terror still held him as firmly in its talons as tight and close as a hungry owl clutching a mouse. Driftwood swallowed hard, and leaned a few fractions of an inch involuntarily closer to Maegi even as his claws tried to sink his bones further into the ground, where his elbows and belly had already made a fairly sizeable rut under the flattened meadowgrass given how desperately he was sinking downward into it. He may have thought her words folly but he clung to what reassurance he could leech from her smaller but far more nonchalant presence. He just hoped she wasn't about to anger the hooved ones, or anything, with her overconfidence and lack of groveling fear. He managed to give his head a minute but violent shake side-to-side. He wasn't about to try hurting the horses; that was for sure. He just seriously had to doubt that that alone would keep him safe...

It was right about then that the stocky, dark dun stallion stuck his long nose up into the air and snorted, as the breeze shifted slightly and brought another suspicious hint of the presence of predators.
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"Really, it's okay," Maegi assured him as he cowered further, a small giggle bubbling in her throat. Yet she could empathize. She remembered how nervous the horses had made her, when Reed had first taken her to the herd. Their hooves were nearly as big as her head, their teeth flat but large, grinding away at the grass. But they were more skittish than anything; the wolves were the apex predators, on this island. They had nothing to fear unless they brought it upon themselves.

"You're Driftwood, right?" she asked, trying to distract the man from his quivering. "I'm Maegi. Dunno if we've actually met, yet." She cast her gaze over a few of the creatures before returning it to Driftwood, eyes narrowed in confusion. "If you're so scared, why did you come here?" she queried matter-of-factly, brows raised. "We can walk away, if you want." The horses wouldn't care. They'd probably welcome the chance to be left alone.
Crabs?! Giant crabs?! That definitely sounded like a creature from his worst nightmares, ranking right up there with ponies and Bambi.
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Ooc — Bryndel
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#5
Driftwood stared at the stallion in paralyzed fear for a minute, watching helplessly as the creature snuffed the air and shook his scruffy mane. It seemed an eternity before the horse lowered his head to crop at the sun-bleached grasses again, and before Driftwood remembered how to breathe once more.

Uh, he managed with some difficulty. I... I didn't know they were here. His voice came out a whisper, only barely louder than the gentle island breeze that was currently carrying all the four-legged scents far out to sea. The wind... I didn't... He was hardly able to so much as glance in the direction of his fellow wolf, his gaze continually drawn back to the small, peaceful herd dappling the meadows before them. It took him another moment to jerkily nod his head. Yes; yes, walking off to leave the horses as far behind as possible sounded like a great idea right now. But since they didn't seem to be doing much of anything, he had the breathing space to gather himself up and remind his limbs of how to work again. Awkwardly he shuffled back, his brave walking away really more of an indirect belly crawl in motion. His underside was probably gathering about a thousand different tiny needling grass seeds that'd jab him mercilessly for days, as it scraped across the plant-softened ground, but right now he so did not care. Y-y-yeah, I'm Driftwood, he belatedly managed, as those first few clumsy steps away were taken, though his throat still felt tight and it was as if a band of fear was physically wrapped around his middle. L-let's go, he almost pleaded, and then managed to accidentally dislodge a small pebble that collided with a few of its fellows with a small clackity-clack-clack that sounded like a full-on clap of thunder to Driftwood's ears. He froze again as the stallion again loosed an irritable snort and raised his proud head in their direction. The horse took two quick steps in their direction with his black-edged ears on full alert, and a wild-eyed Driftwood's muscles tensed, preparing to bolt.
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"Driftwood, it's fine," she insisted, voice sharper than she intended. Taking one final look at the horses, Maegi stood shoulder to shoulder with Driftwood and helped him back away--if he took the steps with her, that was. It was much like a toddler leading a Great Dane, but the humor in the situation was, as usual, lost on the solemn Maegi, focused as she was on the task at hand.

Once they were, hopefully, far enough away from the horses that the man calmed down, she fixed her gaze on him, allowing a small smile to bloom over her face. "There. Feeling better?" She could empathize, at least. She had been scared of the horses when Reed had first brought her here; how could you not, with hooves and great grinding teeth such as those? They could dash the wolves to bits, if they so chose.

But the thing about fear, she'd learned, is that if you let it rule you, you were doomed. Fear was a weapon, not a defense. Others would use your fear to their advantage; only bravery--but not necessarily foolhardiness--could act as a shield against your enemies, the ones you were afraid of.

"I haven't seen you around much," Maegi remarked, canting her head to one side. "What do you do here?"
Crabs?! Giant crabs?! That definitely sounded like a creature from his worst nightmares, ranking right up there with ponies and Bambi.
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Ooc — Bryndel
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#7
Though in reality the stallion didn't move far, unwilling to leave his mares behind, Driftwood could practically see his life flash before his eyes as somewhere deep within him a little voice told him that this was surely how it all ended, how he had always one some level known it had to end. ...It didn't really make a whole lot of sense, even to his fear-addled brain, but then again rationality really wasn't Driftwood's strongest suit at the moment anyhow.

It took a moment for him to remember how his legs worked, again, for him to unknot himself enough to respond to the prodding of Maegi's voice and the suddenly comforting weight of her against his side. He leaned gratefully into her as she carefully and patiently guided his stuttering steps along, and was grateful too that he could focus simply on the placement of first one foot and then another and not have to worry about the direction they were headed (like right into a big scary horse all unknowingly, which Driftwood was dead certain where he would end up if he had had to nagivate this all on his own). The tinier Maegi was not really much of a physical crutch, but her small warmth and physical nearness radiated reassuringly into his side with every step he took away, enabling those steps to become less and less halting as he slowly relaxed.

Y-yeah, he was finally able to reply, when they had at last retreated past the point the horses were out of sight. Th-th-thanks. His voice might still be shaky and unsure, but there was nothing uncertain about the wide smile of gratitude he flashed in her direction, save perhaps for the small tinge of embarrassment to it. Thankfully, she changed the subject, though it took Driftwood's brain a moment to switch gears and follow her.

Oh, I've been exploring the island, he shared with quickly-blooming enthusiasm and more-slowly growing confidence. His eyes sparkled and came alive as he thought about all the wonderful and gorgeous sights he had seen, trekking here and there whether or not other wolfsteps had traveled thence before him. I hunt a little sometimes, and check the caches when Stockholm or Komodo ask, and sometimes I'll collect seashells for Seelie in her den. His tail loosed up and flagged a little higher as it started to gently fan the air. So many wonderful things to do and see— and none of them involving murderous ponies in the least, thank goodness. I like exploring the shoreline, and seeing what the ocean has washed up, and exploring all across the island like up around the Skybowl or over on the rocks with the sea lions by the lagoon or— Whoops. He might have been mindlessly babbling just a little more than usual in relief, too.
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To her relief, Driftwood calmed substantially once they were away from the horses, giving her a chance to see his true personality. Maegi smiled softly as he went into detail about his pastimes, ears perking as he mentioned collecting seashells. She shook her head as he cut himself off, presumably feeling abashed by how much he talked.

"That's cool," she said, eyes glowing. "The seashells. . . My brother used to collect interesting objects, too. And seashells are pretty. There's a lot to see here, isn't there?" Maegi asked, casting her gaze to the ocean. "Are you from the sea originally, or is this your first time here?"

So many of the born seawolves seemed so at ease, here. Maegi wasn't sure if she would ever grow to have that sort of familiarity with the waves. It was pretty enough on the island, but she missed the dark forest--the trees, the swamps, the mists. That was her element. Wheeling Gull Isle could not have been more different from her home.
Crabs?! Giant crabs?! That definitely sounded like a creature from his worst nightmares, ranking right up there with ponies and Bambi.
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Ooc — Bryndel
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#9
It's a wonderful island; so many things to see, he burbled with continuing enthusiasm, bobbing his head in eager agreement like an overeager little bird. Well I— The deluge abruptly cut off, and his brow furrowed for a moment. ...I've been around this island and visited the sea on many sides, here, he said after a moment's consideration, slowly. Or had she meant more than that, elsewhere and elsewhen? Driftwood didn't know the answer to that. Are you from the sea originally? As far as I know... yes, the sea birthed me, he said, turning puzzled and slightly troubled eyes to the beckoning gray waves. He knew it was a silly way to put it, but he couldn't really remember anything much beyond that. And he certainly didn't want to lie, even if he wasn't a pretty dismal liar to begin with. ...In more ways than one his vision was limited and often-befogged beyond the oceanic horizons of Undersea.

Have you seen many seashells yourself? he asked, pulling his attention and eyes back to her. And what kinds of things does... er, did your brother collect? Driftwood's voice grew more hesistant again as he self-corrected and then stopped with a bit of a frown. Was this blundering into sensitive territory for her? It only occurred to him to ask this of himself after the words were out of his mouth. Of course. ...Maybe he could make it up to her with a seashell? But a lightning-quick flicker of his golden eyes across the tawny sands didn't reveal even a single small broken shell he could even attempt to slide over and acquire, much less anything worthy of offering by way of apology, or thanks for that matter. Well shoot—he turned his newly-concerned eyes to Maegi once more. Siblings were a difficult subject sometimes, weren't they. Driftwood blinked at this thought, and then promptly and apprehensively focused on Maegi and her reaction again.
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His answer drew her brows together in confusion, but she let it slide--for now--letting him speak in his fractured, nervous way. How was one born from the sea? As far as she knew, you got too far down into the water, you drowned. That was the whole of it.

Then again, though. . .the injured boy had come to them directly from the sea. Had it been like that, for Driftwood, too?

Maegi would have been happy to answer his question about seashells before his follow-up query; her face darkened suddenly, and she turned away, her stomach churning. Euron. She heard his voice in her head, like he sat right there, whispering in her ear. As if he had never left her--as if she hadn't chosen to let him go, she amended bitterly, frowning.

"For the you, now."

And a shiny black feather, the feel of it silky under her paw.

"Not really," she answered succinctly, still looking out to sea. "I've been paying more attention to the things crawling around. Trying to make sure they don't, like, bite me, or whatever." His second question was left unanswered; he would receive no answers, and he would see the back of her tail receding quickly into the distance if he were to press the issue.
Crabs?! Giant crabs?! That definitely sounded like a creature from his worst nightmares, ranking right up there with ponies and Bambi.
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Ooc — Bryndel
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#11
Driftwood watched in dismay as the stromclouds drifted across Maegi's face just before she turned it away. Butterflies awoke in his own stomach, and he shifted his feet uncomfortably as he opened his mouth and then uncertainly shut it again: would saying something, offering his lame apologies after the fact, holding out words of sympathy, in the end make things better, or worse? Driftwood didn't know, and in the end said nothing at all. In any case the moment slipped away as Maegi spoke again, though now she stared out at the ocean and seemed uninterested in regarding his face any longer. Driftwood wondered in an additional flash of swift discomfort if perhaps he bore some unfortunate resemblance to the brother in question. But Maegi seemed distinctly unwilling to pursue the subject and so Drift simply let it drop. He perked his ears anew and focused intently on her words, as if the intensity of that alone might be able to make up for his blunder.

Oh. Oh, yes, of course. Driftwood shivered his furry scruff in sympathy. Crawly, bitey things are no good. And did you know there are crabs around, too, that pinch?! That little factoid had come as an unhappy surprise to Driftwood, at least. He couldn't remember ever having seen the bizarre crustaceans before Undersea. It's good to stay alert for them, indeed! Driftwood cast a quick eye over the stretch of beach near them, and then across the meadows stirring in the breeze behind them, just in case maybe the crabs and the horses had formed some sort of unholy alliance, perhaps. Don't mess with the crabs. ...But you look unbitten, at least...? That was good, right? Or was the girl perhaps hiding some sort of less-obvious injury... besides the tender spot on her wounded heart that he had so carelessly stumbled onto a moment ago, that is. He shied his mind wide of that: not even touching that subject again with a ten-foot pole, nope!
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His remark caught her attention, and she turned, an amused smile growing over her maw without her volition. "Is that what they're called? Crabs? I've just been calling them pinchers." She waggled her right paw in illustration, feeling the sting anew. "They pinched me, once. I try to stay as far away from them as I can."

Maegi was grateful that he left the subject of her past far behind. There were few occasions that she wanted to talk about the Woods, even with her closest friends here. That would bring the trees alive once more, and it made the homesickness wash over her all over again. A pinch from a crab was superfluous compared to that ache in her heart.

"Do you, uh, wanna collect some shells?" she offered, cocking her head. "I'm sure you know more about them than I do." She wondered if they had any use, apart from being beautiful. Were they medicinal? Poisonous, even? These were questions that she'd have to lob his way; Maegi hoped he'd have answers for her.
Crabs?! Giant crabs?! That definitely sounded like a creature from his worst nightmares, ranking right up there with ponies and Bambi.
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Ooc — Bryndel
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Driftwood tilted his head and leaned over to sympathetically examine the paw Maegi was wiggling in demonstration, and to quickly count all its toes. Yep, they appeared to all still be attached; good, good. Well, they definitely are pinchers. Honestly, maybe we should all call them that anyhow... might give the unwary innocents out there a little more forewarning, right?!

He was glad she seemed more than willing to change the subject and forgive his inept and overcurious nature. That had definitely not been the case with all the wolves he had met here on this island. His heart warmed toward the lovely and loving little creature that was Maegi though; so far as Driftwood was concerned, this was only further incontrovertible proof of her innate awesomeness. It was definitely not a given that all creatures would let him "get away" with his silly mistakes, and though the details of some of those encounters might be a little hazy in his mind, Maegi stood out as an inspirational shining star stamped firmly in his mind beside them by comparison. Driftwood bounced eagerly up at her suggestion, instantly willing to drag her along with him in his beachcombing endeavors. Maybe she'd like the shells they found just as much as Seelie and Driftwood himself, and that would help him pay her back for her amazing bravery and fortitude shown earlier, in standing up to those rotten horses and helping him sneak away!

Yes—that'd be wonderful! I can show you all the best spots I've found to look for them, he burbled happily, tail all a-wag. And as a bonus, to boot, the nearest of those spots was futher away from the horses. This was a great plan, and Maegi was once again inadvertently but doubtlessly demonstrating her brilliance in suggesting it. She was so sensitive and smart, and so wise for someone so young: Driftwood was very glad indeed to have her for a packmate. ...Though admittedly he would have happily gone along with nearly anything she suggested, save for any hint of having to approach those dratted horses once again. Shell-hunting was indeed paradisiacal by comparison. It'll be great! Let's go! His paws were already doing a happy little dance of anticipation, and he'd be off like a shot the instant she made the tiniest move to follow after him. Probably babbling his fool head off even more in the bargain as he did so, odds were.