Wheeling Gull Isle all hail king neptune

She’d taken to search for shelter but she didn’t beat the rain.  It came pouring down on her all at once, making it difficult to see in front of her.  She makes attempt to find thick areas of foliage, running from tree trunk to large plant to another tree.  Her fur is waterlogged within minutes, though, and it’s cold.  The wind is harsh against her fur, and strong, but she can’t find the caves.

Failure creeps upon her.

A tree had fallen well before the storm, recreating the damaged landscape.  The earth had attempted to scab over the defeat.  It’s the perfect shelter for the small wolf.  She alters her path and fits herself snuggly in the hallowed out drunk.  It’s dark and musky and there’s a bad smell of mold and rot.  

Tuulikki isn’t sure how long an hour is but she’s absolutely sure it isn’t as long as the storm rages on.  

The girl falls asleep when things begin to die down, but doesn’t offer any signs it’ll finish raining any time soon.  But when she does wake, it’s humid and thick and she struggles to get in a real breath that’s not like swallowed damp cotton balls.  

She shimmies out of the log, shakes out her fur, and takes a few minutes to gather herself and wake her mind up.  Water flings from her coat when she shakes.  Her Komentaja must be looking for her by now and she’s not sure how long the storm has been over.  Tuulikki’s feet hit the ground and ran out in one direction, hoping to find the coast for an anchor.  

The sun is bright when she breaks the tree line, sand flying up around her as she lands on unsteady ground.  There’s no sign of any real damage, a few washed up sea creatures, but no sign of the other wolf.  The island is large enough that she need not panic and she enjoy the cool wind that blows through her fur, feeling a slight bite penetrating through.  She inhales a long breath before she releases her song, searching.

Alive.