Wheeling Gull Isle Silence lay steadily

Be it coincidence or providence, the sea roils angrily on the morning of Judah’s departure.

He says goodbye to @Malakai. He makes a promise to return, and means it.

Feet carry him to the now familiar form of @John before his heart and mind can protest.

“I’m ready,” he tells the man. “I want to go.”

The sea rolled angrily in the morning, the rough waves crashing against a toiled beach. The sky was a pale grey, and a cool wind blew as John neared the beach, where the tall figure of Judah strode up to the side of John, and John looked to the young man, understanding and hope in his eyes. 

“Then we shall go, Judah. Come, God shall lead us home.”

John took one last look upon the island, and he had said his farewells, and with him now, he carried his fur sack that he’d traveled with. It carried just enough meat for the journey and lavender from the field of Caracal, a gift for Heda and for his den that Druid had promised to have ready upon his return.

When the land bridge had revealed itself to the two young men, John led, like Moses had led the Israelites across the Red Sea. There wasn’t much conversation between them, but John wanted to know; “If I may, what happened to your leg? I had been isolated in the Lion’s den last fall after things began to roll downhill. “

“No. Home is the island. And I’m not following God. I’m following you.”

With that, the boy is silent, staring intently ahead, pushing his leg faster to keep pace when the muscles cry out with added strain. He limps away from everything that calls him kin, trying not to think of home and what lay beneath its weather- the rolling green hills and briney coastlines, and Malakai who would stand in wait of his return.

Black-tipped ears don’t even tick towards John, barely hearing the man when he speaks.

Roll downhill. Judah scoffs. Yeah, that's one way to put it.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he clips and drives onward as if to prove a point.

I can cover more ground on three legs than any other can on four.

cameo

He would not hold his brother here, like a caged bird. Yes, Malakai wanted to. To chain his brother here at his side, so that they may never leave one another again. 

Yet it was both love and fear which Malakai wanted to bind his twin to him. He needed Judah to go. To see their mother, see their sister. It would easy the unanswered questions in Judah's heart and allow him to know for certain, this is where he would always belong. 

The crusader watched his brother leave from atop the Greenhills, already awaiting the day of his return.

Tags only for reference. :D

John was quiet in response to the words spoken. He would accept that this was the boy’s, now young man’s, outlook; for the time being at least. He gave a nod in acknowledgment of what Judah said, and the two continued their traveling in silence. 

As time went on, John’s thoughts had carried him away, to who remained on the isle. He worried for Simeon, and last he saw of Simeon, whom he hadn’t seen for days, and that time grew longer. To @Isarda, who he would leave behind. She was fed and had a place to rest, his job was done for now. Yet, no matter how much he thought, he couldn’t justify leaving them, any of them, but God had a hand in all worldly and heavenly things, John would just have to trust Him. To accept what was given, even though it was a single son. He would be fortunate though, to tell Heda that they were all alive, that they were safe.

He finally spoke, “I pray that Simeon is alright. After I had baptized him, he had disappeared. Have you seen him?”

“Probably ran off,” the boy scoffs, limping forcefully over hill and gully, catching his breath whenever the road ahead stretches out straight and flat. They are thick into the woods now, with not a glimmer of coastline in sight and only a wooded forest that verged them into mountainous pathways, the likes of which Judah had never hiked before.

“Dunno if you’ve noticed, John, but that’s what Redhawks are best at,” dryly, he cursed their family name like it’d been an ill omen from the start.

The terrain seemed to change with each mile they traveled, now they were in the thick of a forest, where there was little sunlight and no coastline, no ocean to listen for.

When Judah scoffed about his brother, John remained skeptical. He didn’t believe that Simeon would simply run away from everything. Simeon seemed to be growing into a fine young man, just as each of Heda’s children had, and Dinah a fine young woman, from what he could remember of her. Each had their own thoughts and opinions on the whole Redhawk downfall, and some had taken their anger out on him, Dinah more specifically.

“I can see that.” He replied, his voice dry, mostly from the warm weather and a lack of water. “And it didn’t do anyone any good, did it?” He put his nose to the ground, sniffing. “I need to stop at the nearby creek for water. Won’t take me long.” He told Judah before he took a detour for the creek.

“Dunno. Think maybe everyone’s better off. Mom’s got a replacement family. Dinah’s got a new home. Simeon’s probably got both a’those at this point,” he glances down. It had occurred to him more than once that his family didn’t want to be reunited. Maybe they were happy where they were now, without him. 

Afterall, it was John who came for Heda’s leftover children. She probably couldn’t be bothered. Or maybe she’d forgotten altogether.

He huffs, too scared, or too stubborn to turn back. The man’s constant shadow, Judah wades through waist-high ferns and bellies on the shore beside him, taking large gulps of creek water into his mouth.