Wheeling Gull Isle martinique, that montserrat mystique

I'm the worst. ;-; I keep missing this because of where it is in my threadlog. So sorry, lvoely!

He followed her – the fairy spirit of the isle. Her fur brushed behind her like a banner and her paws were nimble upon the shifting sands of the coast. The shadowrunner had learned to appreciate the ocean – even growing to prefer it, despite being born upon a mountain farther inland. Still, adept as he was for now moving along the coastal surface, he knew in his heart he would not remain so close to the ocean.
 
The sinew of his stocky form flexed as he slowed now. The alluring girl before him bowed low, coy in her notion, and his fiery eyes flared as they cast over her. Go to her he did, casting a playful nip to the flank of the free spirit, waiting to see where she would lead him.