Wheeling Gull Isle I wanna live a life from a new perspective

I don’t think Seelie and Faeryn have ever gotten to have a proper thread!

The blue she-wolf was an unknown quantity to Coelacanth. They’d met briefly when Dakarai had washed up on Wheeling Gull Isle’s shores, but their paths tended only to cross when meetings were called. In an effort to change that around, Coelacanth trotted intently through the sparse foliage with the specific goal of finding Faeryn and spending a little time with her. She couldn’t very well howl for the other female, but fortunately, what remained of the pack tended to linger toward the southeastern region of the isle. Not-so-secretly, Coelacanth hoped that Stockholm might lead an expedition further inland as Komodo and Axolotl had always meant to — but there would be time for that, she believed in all her naïveté. She had no reason to suspect that their happy existence here would be threatened.

The sight of Faeryn in the distance, placidly nibbling at a fish while the wind ruffled at her unusual, azure-touched fur, sent the atramentous sheepdog’s tail into a whipping whirlwind. She “barked” — a soft rush of air and a muted click of her teeth as they fell together — as she dropped to her belly a respectful distance away and wriggled closer by degrees. In case the other female was touchy about being approached while she was eating, Seelie stopped when she was still a good wolfslength or two away. With the low rumble of the waves, it would be too difficult for her to make a verbal greeting, so she simply dipped her finely-tapered muzzle with a shy smile. Hello!