Wheeling Gull Isle i wish i was in sherbrooke now

Nesting against the northeast edge of the island was a lump of brown. The snow fell across the rise of some shoulders and rested there. Around the hocks was a tangle of sea weed. The tide pulsed at the lump that was the body and shoved it further up the beach.

As the water receded it dragged bits of rock with it; a log left teetering on some of the well rooted boulders, a piece of plastic that might have once been a container of detergent before the sea had its way with it, and a string of barnacle encrusted fishing line wrapped around some smaller pieces of wood.

It looked like a ship wreck — but no two pieces of debris fit with the other, they had all been carried here by the will of an ill tide.

It was no secret that Huā preferred the edge of the island that faced the land. While the sight of the open sea was beautiful, the lower edge of the island was where most joiners were found lingering, or guests, and it allowed quick access to her friends on the mainland. But every so often she did patrol the whole thing- after all, it was all her land, their land. There was no reason not to use all of it, and so that day Huā paced to the quieter edge of shore where one looked out and could only see blue. She told herself she'd turn back once she made it to Ruò's old rock, but she never did- the empress found something much more intriguing first. First her eye found the fishing net- and then the dark lump, who was gently pushed by the tides, and unmoving on its own. She scampered over, and it was only then that she realized she was looking at a body, and sucked in a sharp gasp. She didn't know if he was alive, but he didn't reek of death yet, at least- and so she hastily grabbed at his salt-washed scruff, trying to drag him further up the shore in spite of her smaller size, and telling herself she'd check his pulse once he was out of the splash zone on dry ground.

A dark-capped figure came to him, grabbing hold and tugging until his limp, soggy self was dragged safely from the tidal zone. It took time — the woman was small and he was waterlogged enough to have gained some weight. 

The jostling of being pulled over land was different from the weightlessness of the ocean directing him; it wasn't enough to wake him outright, but when he came to a stop Dubloon did rouse a little. 

He tasted a warm sourness that crawled up his nose and stabbed the back of his throat. When he swallowed his mouth felt dry, his throat raw. 

Something was jammed against his tongue; the swallow forced it back and made him gag, which in turn made him raise his head. A sharp pain shocked his neck. He coughed and spat a wad of wet sand and what could have been feathers from his lips.

Eventually she had dragged him far enough, and was already about to let go of his scruff when he roused and gagged, causing her to release and stumble back in surprise. He was nearly choking for a moment- and then he spat out something into the earth which she refused to look directly at, and instead focused on him. He had said nothing yet. Can you hear me? Are you breathing okay? She wondered worriedly, figuring a simple nod might suffice as confirmation. She wasn't sure he'd be ready to speak yet. Huā wanted to go fetch food for the castaway, but was too afraid to leave his body in case something happened, and so stayed at his side as she awaited any acknowledgement that he might live. It only took a moment for her to decide to summon the doctor @Natshana with a short howl, though she wasn't sure if the girl was present on the island right now or not.

The woman reminded him of an arctic tern. He had no name for the bird but the resemblance struck him as soon as he looked at her — squinting with red-rimmed eyes. 

He thought he heard her speak but his ears still felt wrong, as if there was an ocean inside of them. He tried to shake his head as if that might help, to rid the blockage, and as soon as he tilted his head his neck screamed at him.

The wolf winced and sucked in a breath. When the woman called for help the sound of her howl rang through Dubloon's skull and he ducked low as if to evade it, hissing another breath out through his teeth. Ahhh, yeh, ears still work. 

And then he coughed, spat, and sat there breathing raggedly.

He seemed a little... disconnected. Huā watched and made an empathetic little wince of her own when she heard him suck a sharp breath. And then his voice- a little odd, the sound of it, but at least he could hear. Well, um- I asked our doctor to visit. She should be here soon, Huā explained, dropping to her haunches beside him. If you are too tired to speak, that is okay. But do you know how you... get here? She paused, with a sudden idea giving him a look that said hold that thought, and scurried a few yards inland, grabbing a fish from the nearest cache. The empress brought it back, placing it gently in front of the castaway, and then settled down again with curious ears tilted his way.