Wheeling Gull Isle heart made of glass, my mind of stone

As the warm fingers of the sun's rays reached out over his island home, Driftwood was searching for the courage to confront some inner demons of his own. He had gotten up while the predawn air was still brisk, shaken off the dirt from his small dugout hollow whence he'd been napping, and set out with eager strides toward a side of the island he had not yet investigated. In the distance the colorful swathes of spring flowers bobbed in the breeze and beckoned him onward alluringly. Yet his footsteps began to slow and falter, as the scents of the area came clearer to his nose instead of being blown sidewise and away from it. His belly crept closer to the ground, and his bold footsteps began to skitter and skulk as his nostrils remained nervously atwitch. He didn't see any signs of wild horses ahead, however... He tried to bolster himself through a stern mental talking-to. What would Seelie think of him now if they could see him, or any of his other packmates for that matter? This was an island owned by wolves, wolves who should in no wise be afraid of prey... But Drift was still nervous, and his tiptoeing steps help themselves ready to flee in the opposite direction at any moment, should the least sign of a hooved one appear nearby.

What snagged his attention instead, however, was the unfamiliar sight and scent of a forlorn young female, her outline haloed in gold and bronzily limning her coat in such a way that Driftwood halted and stared at the statuesque creature for a long moment before cautiously starting to thread his way through the pastel palette of blooms toward her. Hello, he called as he drew closer, although not before taking another quick look around to make sure malicious ponies were staying well out of view, still. One never knew what those dastardly horsies might get up to if one didn't keep an eye out, after all... For once he stayed relatively quiet and respectful, though, and not just to avoid attracting any unwanted equine attention. There was something strangely hushed and beautiful about the landscape this early morning, and he almost felt there was some sort of spell he was breaking by intruding his presence upon it and the strange girl who seemed to complete the perfect picture. Drift's ears drooped as he wondered if perhaps he should just turn and tiptoe away, horses or no—but he had already spoken and surely this female could tell him if she didn't actually want him here intruding on her private space, right? What brings you out here this morning? he asked haltingly.

He hoped he wasn't just forgetting having met her before. But maybe if he just kept his words vague, she wouldn't notice, if so—and surely her scent would have been thicker around Wheeling Gull Island in general if she'd been here long? Uh. His brow furrowed as he tried to remember for absolute certain that he'd never before smelled her presence here. Crap.