Wheeling Gull Isle soon to prove

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It felt a little unreal. As if he was floating somewhere between dreams and reality. Neither was nice though.

The silence (the canine silence, the birds still cried and seals still attempted to call over them) of the island caused the corners of his mouth to etch down. His steps were heavy as he moved along the edge of a former home, his former home. Someone who knew him might have been able to guess he was heading towards the tide pools and rocky shores. It was a place of familiar comfort. At least it used to be. He was not sure what feelings would spark when he arrived. Sadness? Bitterness? A touch of cowardliness? He had not burned very bright the last few months. A husk of whatever he had been previous to his own acts of abandonment.

He had brought everything upon himself and maybe heading to the source of his feelings would help him fix some things. There was no guarantee but it was worth a shot.

As he had stayed closed up in his mind, his paws had led him to the rocky edges. The crash of the water seemed to pull him back to the world around him. Despite the gloominess of the day, he felt a bit warm inside. It was not sadness or bitterness that overwhelmed him as he arrived here. It was comfort. Familiarity. Was he always meant to return here? Was it the land that captured him and not the creatures here? He had loved them all dearly but it was a thought to ponder.

The former Seawolf could have dwelled on things for days, weeks, months. Yet he didn't want to anymore. He wanted at least a night of silence from his own mind. The comfort that the island wrapped him in soothed his thoughts. Even if only temporarily. So he headed partly inland to find shelter and to try to rest.