Wheeling Gull Isle Walk the Plank, Ye Scurvy Dog

He licked his lips nervously, but gave a small, eager bobble of his head as the black-tressed lady deigned to sound out his name. No matter how strangely those syllables might sit on her tongue, they were certainly close enough in his book! Perhaps it would all be all right, now…? But Driftwood cringed again at the harsh voice and harsher stare of the other male. This guy looked so intimidating! Did he ever smile? Or was there perhaps even a glimmer of hope that all his gruff seriousness was an act… Driftwood’s golden eyes met Komodo’s, and that hope died a-borning within the tauhou. Sorry…? he offered in his smallest, meekest voice, looking directly at Komodo as his own slightly-shivering body kissed the damp sands and his ears flattened parallel with his skull. His eyes did flicker to rest on Coelacanth for a minute as Komodo informed him of her rank—but if she was indeed “head honcho,” then why was Komodo acting like he was taking charge of the situation himself?
 
Driftwood was so confused. Especially when the female contradicted the male, and said that Driftwood could always ask. …He was too intimidated to ask what he was thinking right now, though, his tongue knotted in the middle and sticking in the back of his dry throat; also too confused to be able to fully articulate even to himself what exactly he wanted to ask. Maybe later, if the female was findable alone and without her brooding guardian skulking at her heels like a thunderstorm ready to break. Maybe then he could figure a few more things out.
 
Seelie, he whispered, still rather uncertain, lost and befogged. But all his worries were washed away quite suddenly, all other considerations fled, as the most important words of all escaped Coelacanth. Welcome home. Driftwood had trouble believing what he had heard, until Seelie nosed him and then thwumped her length affectionately against him. The affectionate physicality drove the reality of that statement home. Driftwood squeaked in happy excitement, words still failing him though for a completely different and much happier reason now, at least, and his tail could no longer contain its thrilled agreement. He danced forward two zigzaggy half-steps, whilst still mostly in his half-crouch, and his eyes likewise danced with delight. Home! he managed, and then remembered to look back at the disapproving male, as Coelacanth met him with a much colder disapproval back. Driftwood held his place and his tongue further, his sand-speckled rump thudding back down to the ground as he stared apprehensively at his fellow male again, wondering what the other was going to have to say about this latest development, especially. Home? he murmured again, which was almost a question to the guy who had such a grudge against them, whoops, but then again it wasn’t a complete sentence or really even a complete thought…so maybe he was safe there, Drift told himself in apprehensive half-hope. Seelie again suggested the other one meet her on his lonesome tonight, but now it came across as more of a command, and much less of a likely flirtatious invitation. Driftwood still didn’t know what exactly was going on, here, but for once he managed to hold his tongue—and Seelie was already moving off, in any case. Driftwood really wished he could go with her, for more reason than one, but he figured this was probably a clear enough dismissal on her part (and besides which he wasn’t sure the intruding male might not chomp him, if Driftwood dared pace Coelacanth’s footsteps—that had been made pretty clear right here and now, too). He sat and looked back at his fellow male, wondering with a quick squinting glance up at the sky if the hulking grump was going to follow her. His fitful shivering was not all due to the ticklish little cold breeze that was feeling him up and whispering in his ear. This other guy scared him just a little, he wasn’t afraid to admit…and now Seelie might be leaving him alone with him. Driftwood swallowed, but held his place and held his peace. If Drift was going to make this place a home, after all, he’d have to find a place to stand his ground sooner or later…and he didn’t want to leave Seelie, especially, with the impression that he would abandon what was now his rightful turf in order to run and hide. No matter how much he might secretly kind of want to.