Wheeling Gull Isle solitude

had he done something?

he sat in a deafening silence atop the height of the island. down below the waves churned and lapped the edge of the island. he thought he spotted the fire stripe of @Heda moving somewhere down below.

he wanted to be alone.

he wanted to call to her.

heda flushed ravens from their place in the tall dark grass. she might have chased them then, had not she glanced up to see bartholomew high above her.
he was only a small figure from this distance, but she knew his frame.
heda approached. the wind tore at her red hackles. she smiled toward her mentor, then dropped to her haunches beside him with a low sigh. "blueberry is staying."

He was back in the old neighborhood, which meant he ought to make a beeline to Mereo to check in with Towhee and Killdeer. But he figured he’d been gone so long, a few days wouldn’t make a difference. And he was enjoying a foray by the seaside.

Caracal stopped in his tracks and turned his one working eye toward an island. As soon as he spotted it, he could hear his own voice from the past. “Last one there’s a moldy ballsack!” Presently, he snorted loudly and bucked his head, grinning as he recollected how he and his best buddy had nearly drowned right here.

He didn’t see movement on the distant shore, though just for fun, Caracal decided to toss back his head and howl, “Hey, is anybody hooome?”

she came and he said not a word.

only looked to her with warmth and the knowledge that she was steadfast. more so than perhaps anyone else in his life had ever been.

she shared knowledge with him. then he knew he must speak.

that's three of us.

he could not bring himself to verbalize those who had left him. them.

we can make it through winter, into the spring, i think.

an ugly pain burned his chest — a thing that only was allowed to live briefly as suddenly the sound of a howl pierced the breeze. that of a voice he did not know.

heda thought of what she and mireille had discussed; she thought of blueberry's immediate declaration of support — for her. as a mother.
"perhaps god will bless us with new life as well," she said, the end of the last word cut off by a howl she recognized.
once he had called her wife though they had only traveled together.
something flickered in her belly. she stood with a golden look to bartholomew, then called back.
caracal. it's heda.

He didn’t really expect a reply. He started thinking about making the swim, just to check out the island again. Caracal was a stronger swimmer now, though he wondered what would happen if he got saltwater in his one working eye. What if he was rendered blind and drowned?

“Caracal, it’s Heda.”

Caracal blinked, then yelled, What?! No way!

But she wouldn’t hear his shout from here, of course, and now he had to make the swim. What the hell were the odds he would cross paths with his “wife” upon returning to this end of the wilds?

“Well, hey, wifey!” he howled back exuberantly as he scampered toward the water’s edge, only to hesitate. “I’m on the mainland, should I make my way over…?”

heda had started to say something.

she knew the caller. the caller knew her, of course. it was the way the caller referred to heda that jarred bartholomew. a spine straightening pain that struck his very core.

oh. you are...

wedded? how? she had never mentioned it and he had not thought he'd been so distant as to miss that.

he cleared his throat, and stayed rooted to the spot.

if she wished to go greet this one that called her wifey...he would not stop her.

heda wondered at the look which crossed bartholomew's face, the way he stayed grounded against the earth. "what? oh! oh, no!" she exclaimed in a breathless sort of laugh. "caracal and i dispersed at the same time and decided to say we were on a honeymoon, for whatever reason. i haven't seen him in a long time."
had that been over a year ago?
it warmed and confused and flattered heda that her mentor cared about the term. 
she howled back to the boy.
come on!

“Come on!”

Oh, shit, Caracal muttered excitedly, I guess we’re doing this.

Without any particular grace, he sprang into the water. He hurled several girlish curses into the air at the chill of it, then quickly began paddling. It was an uneventful swim, really, and he managed to keep any saltwater out of his good eye.

When he reached the shore of the island, Caracal gave himself a mighty shake, then sent up a quick call, “I’m here on the beach!”

Shivering, teeth chattering, he glanced up and down the strip of sand. He had to turn a little to take in everything, on account of his bad eye. But the place looked beautiful, especially considering the season. It had been winter the last time he’d been here too. Caracal wondered how splendid it was in summer.

he did not understand.

if this was a brand of humor, it was lost on him. the sanctity of marriage was not meant to be joked upon, not in his eyes. not to mention that this caracal had seemed to recall that time enough to come to this island and address heda as wifey.

bartholomew did not like this ugly side of himself.

do you wish for me to join?

if she said yes, he would follow like a shadow.

heda knew him well enough to sense he was unamused with their antics. "of course," she told the darkfurred man, pressing his paw with her own.
a flame raced through her heart. she told herself that he did not wish her in that way.
her red stripe led their way down to where caracal stood streaming with water. he hardly looked changed, older a little, with his eye still ruined by that long-ago bird. "it's good to see you again," she said gently with the poise that the island had given her. "this is sweetharbor. and this is our teacher and mentor, bartholomew."
her golden eyes were soft on the man.

It surprised him when Heda turned up with someone else alongside her. Caracal angled his face to study the stranger with his good eye. He was like no wolf he’d ever seen. He made a curious noise in his throat before his gaze shifted to Heda, face lighting up at the sight of her.

Good to see you! he echoed enthusiastically. Nice to meet you, man, I’m Caracal, he added to Heda’s companion. So you guys live here? That’s cool, he said, wondering about that black wolf who’d been here before.

But a lot of things could change in a year, even less. He took a step back to give his pelt another shake without spraying the other two, pondering his last interactions with Heda before they’d parted ways. Even before their travels and the incident with the goose, they’d been friendly.

“I just don’t think I’m destined to be really close with anyone, you know?” he remembered her saying to him once. She’d told him how she didn’t feel cut out for friendships. But he’d always enjoyed her company and Caracal hadn’t missed the warm look she’d given this Bartholomew guy.

Smiling fondly at the young woman, Caracal said, I’d love to hear about this Sweetharbor, if you guys have the time to spare.

the boy was youthful and bright.

seemingly not touched by the all the things bartholomew had seen, had lived. he hated the jealous burn in his chest and throat. it made him feel boyish! ridiculous!

he had no right to feel this way!

blessed day, caracal. he remained warm, composed.

but when it came time to discuss sweetharbor, he looked to heda. sharing gazes for a moment.

it seemed fitting that she be the one to explain the place to those she knew.

in the depths of bartholomew's gilded eyes, heda sensed — something. felt it move behind the man's gaze like an angel's whisper.
"we are a place first of peace, then of gospel. we bring those here who need to be fed and healed, who need a place of safety and no expectations. and, if they're willing to listen, we tell them about god, and how his creation is our paradise."
she spoke with love and resolution, feeling each word spill from somewhere deep inside her soul. "sweetharbor favours hunters, actually," she said, a bit less casually and with a swing of her tail.

His smile slipped a little when Heda mentioned the word “gospel.” He didn’t know what that meant and it made Caracal feel like an idiot. He forgot about it as she continued, mentioning nurturing those in need of food and medicine. That reminded him of Atautsikut. He wondered how they were doing these days. He swallowed.

The last few words out of Heda’s mouth—before her mention of hunters—gave Caracal pause again. He knew about gods, thanks in part to his worldly ways, though he didn’t think he’d ever heard of any references to “his creation.” He didn’t judge, though his head cocked as he pondered all these differences in his friend.

You’re in your element then, Caracal observed with a friendly laugh. I won’t lie, I don’t know that I follow this stuff about god and gospel, but it sounds like a good place, Heda. And you look happy.

His tail waved as he glanced over at Bartholomew. “Blessed day,” he’d said a moment ago. Was this man responsible for Heda’s new religiosity? Where was he from? Caracal tried not to stare too long, though he was super intrigued by the dude’s appearance in particular.

You said something in there about no expectations, Caracal mused after a beat. What if, he wondered, surveying what he could see of the island beyond them again, I hung out here for a few days? Would that be cool?

he wished the Lord would strike him now.

anything to instantly cease and silence the unjust rage in his gut. he should have stayed alone upon the green hills, let heda come to this alone.

how could he become so vile?

he straightened himself some slightly. already preparing himself to step away.

i will go and make preparations for a resting place for you.

a warm smile hid his inner upset.

he wished to be alone.

to someone outside the island, bartholomew might appear warm if reticent.
to heda, a chill truly had begun to hang invisibly between he and she.
had it been the stupid name? why did he care? did he know caracal somehow?
"i am happy," she confirmed with a gentle grin. she wanted to heap praises on bartholomew, she wanted him to speak of the lord.
but he was leaving now.
heda tried not to give him a pained look of worry and turned back to caracal. "i'll take you to wherever he is. but come on for now, i'll tour you around."

In response to Caracal’s question, Bartholomew offered to prepare a place for him to rest. The yearling blinked and then smiled brightly, touched by this very generous offer. He had come across a lot of wolves in his travels, though nobody had welcomed him so readily.

Yeah, man, sounds good. Thanks! Caracal said, bobbing his head as Bartholomew turned away.

His eyes flicked back to Heda when she mentioned a tour, one dull but the other brightening at the offer. He bobbed his head again, this time a bit more enthusiastically, and motioned for her to take point.

So how’d all this come about? he asked as they began to walk together. Like, how did you end up here? You seem different than when we got married, Caracal quipped, brushing her shoulder to show he meant nothing by it, which isn’t a bad thing! You’re happy, that’s all that matters, right?

map for ref!

heda led the way across pale golden sand, the red arch to their right and the great pair of rocks to their left.
"after we split up, i went to confront mahler. the one who took care of you. well. he was my adoptive dad and i guess he just — abandoned the rest of my family."
it no longer hurt to recount this.
"i never went home after that. i briefly talked to ensio about getting out, but. he didn't go with me. and then i met bartholomew. he taught me how not to be so angry. how to talk about it. how to let it go."
"this has been home since two springs ago." the greenhills loomed ahead. "we were once something, briefly. we lost too many. i decided i wasn't leaving. bartholomew decided to stay with me. there's one other. not sure if we're going to rebuild, but either way, this is where i know i belong."
married. marriage. husbands. wives. her cheeks burned. "where have you been, anyway?"

Ooh, thank you! It’s beauteous, as always.

The views and Heda’s voice competed for his attention, though ultimately he found himself gazing mostly at her. He vaguely remembered some tension between Heda and Mahler when she had sought out the man’s help, though a lot of that recollection was buried in the embarrassment he’d felt over his own reaction to Mahler.

Her story continued, leading her to Ensio and then Bartholomew, who’d helped her manage her emotions. It sounded like they’d decided to move to the island together. Heda spoke in vague terms and Caracal didn’t quite catch on that she referred to a disbanded pack, at least until she mentioned the word “rebuild.”

Oh man, he said, an inadequate response to everything. Caracal shook his head lightly and added, I’ve been everywhere and nowhere in particular. Once I got used to this, he said, indicating his eye, I kept traveling. I’ve been so many places, met a lot of interesting people along the way. It’s been pretty great. I’d say I’d wish you were there with me but it kinda sounds like it was for the best that we split up.

He admired the sage hillocks ahead of them briefly before saying, You mentioned confronting Mahler. How did that go?

It occurred to him that if Bartholomew had come into the picture and helped her with her—understandable, he felt—anger, then it probably hadn’t gone very well. His lips pursed and he shot her an apologetic frown.

<3

"i'm glad you wandered. and i'm glad i quit wandering and finally found a home. that was what i needed, i think." caracal was so vague in a boyish way! he offered her the outline of stories but didn't tell them.
maybe he needed to be invited.
mahler. heda closed her eyes and inhaled the brisk salt wind. "i said everything i needed to say and even yelled at him. even swore. i said everything i wanted to say and it didn't make me any happier. i was carrying my own guilt around too."
heda led caracal up and up and up, to the highest point of her favorite emerald mountains, to where the sea could be seen in all ways, open to the skies and the eye of god. and all the forests and caves and lagoons of the island, of sweetharbor, exposed like veins to the living world.
"the moment i came here i felt — freed." she hoped her companion blamed himself for nothing.

The way her eyes pressed shut made him worry that he’d touched a nerve. If he had, Heda still indulged him. Caracal made sure to listen closely as she explained what had happened. He paid no attention whatsoever to where she was leading him as she spoke.

But then she concluded on the word “free” and he realized they were at the crest of the hill. Caracal had seen many things in his travels, including some pretty awesome views. But he had never seen anything quite this incredible. He actually gasped.

Damn, wifey, good for you, he thought to say after taking a moment to goggle with his one good eye.

Using that term made him suddenly think about the glances exchanged between Heda and Bartholomew. If the man had helped her so much, perhaps there was something between them. Caracal felt a little possessive in the friendliest possible way, though he would never want to get in the way of Heda’s hard-won happiness.

Oh, I can stop calling you that, especially if—are you and Bartholomew a thing? I kind of got a vibe.

heda did laugh this time, a rich sound that the wind carted off to sea. "isn't it," she murmured.
and then caracal caught her off-guard and the young huntress, who had until now maintained a certain playful decorum, found her ears splaying and something that was not humour or hurt curving her mouth into a firm expression.
"we aren't," she said softly as she could, hoping her friend didn't think offense had been taken. "he is courting another of us." was. but for the sake of bartholomew's heart, heda would hold out hope for kacia's return. 
heda was so desperate to hear about this vibe that she almost asked. but she told herself that knowing would only make the ache more horrendous. "the way he talks about marriage, though, it feels — important. holy. so maybe don't say it around him," she added, bumping caracal's shoulder with his own.

This question elicited a stronger reaction than the one about Mahler. Caracal hunched his shoulders a little as an I done fucked up feeling zinged through him. He relaxed a little when Heda once again obliged him with an answer.

The companionable bump against his shoulder relieved him of the feeling completely as he returned it and said, I gotcha. Internally, he added, Holy?

So is he with that one other wolf you mentioned? Caracal wondered, curious about her and this pack they were trying to rebuild.

he doesn't want me lol, she almost added in a furor of oversharing and angst and bitterness.
but heda was doing so well at holding all that calmly inside until she could be alone.
"no, that's blueberry. she's as sweet as her name sounds, and a very good friend. you'll meet her soon." heda began to descend the greenhills toward the palm forest beyond. and she didn't expand beyond that, about kacia or her disappearance, lest she truly lose it in front of caracal. "you said maybe a couple of days? do you want to hunt while you're here?"