Wheeling Gull Isle this isn't a stain of red wine, i'm bleeding love

It was a strange sensation – to see the pale dove stare at him with such misgivings. There had been a time he had been her shoulder. Fate was a fickle creature, and he felt the pain of the loss he endured not only from the death and disappearance of his entire family, but now the she-wolf he could have called best friend – and would have, when the time was right, attempted to court.
 
He swallowed, the effort of it almost too much as he felt a rawness in his throat, looking at her. He wanted to tell her everything – but how did one start such a conversation? And why would he want to remind her of the misery she had endured the past year, when she now had a chance for a fresh start, on this island? Even if it was at the side of Komodo.
 
“Then why not make it a reality?” He hedged around the topic, his fiery eyes skimming over her, seering as they out for a shred of the old Aria – the Aria he had once known.