Wheeling Gull Isle yksi

This morning found Kaamos among the lavender fields. Even with the approaching winter there were clusters of green, some fading purple flowerheads, and the strong purfume riddling the air which rivaled only the brine scent that dominated the island.
She stopped to investigate one patch, then another. These were new smells to her; Kaamos had never seen such greenery before, and found the aroma quite distinct. When she had wasted enough time probing with her nose, she found a smaller section and bowed, rolling to her shoulders, and then worked the scent in to her furs.

Some assumptions lmk if not ok! Unsure of what happened between the lines. Being a bit vague

Days became shorter.
Nights became longer.

It was when the sun started its early set that he took out to seek reverence.

To pray before the waters grew rough once more.
But it was the woman he believed he'd smelled upon @Malakai. Seen in brief.

He was slow in his coming. "Welcome to our island." The world was beauty. "Winter nears. We could be in use of more hunters as food grows scarce. It is still tranquil here, is it not?" 

As she was steadying herself again on her feet, a man approached. Kaamos presumed this was the man that Malakai had mentioned, and was not put off by the company.
He mentioned hunting. His comment of the island made her look around without word, and then she answered, Did you wish to hunt with me?
Perfumed as she was now, it seemed an odd time; however Kaamos was happy to oblige.

He felt a pressure lift from his chest, and a great breath left his lungs. As the weeks slipped by them, he saw more that perhaps it would be no one to join them in the winter.
That he would break his own bones to keep Malakai’s from splinter.

“It would bring me great joy. A welcome and tradition long needed for us of Sweetharbor,” he laughed out the dryness of it, and accepted the warmth that came with tradition of a newcomer. Of hunt, and full bellies, of prayer. He could only be thankful for the blessing of their new arrival. And pray she stayed.

A tradition?
Kaamos found the way he spoke to be odd. It was similar to the boy, which meant the two had lived together long enough to share behavior. More to the point: Kaamos did not understand how hunting could be tradition when it was a necessity. Alas, it did not matter.

With a nod she set out, keeping pace with Nakano while she searched silently for anything to mark a game trail.