Wheeling Gull Isle blackened was the banshee's wail

The stranger he spied was smaller than the other pirate. In fact, he resembled a different animal altogether - but maybe it was a trick of the light, or his age, or the fact that Snitch had nearly drowned so many times on his way here that his brain was starved for oxygen. That would make the most sense, considering the way he staggered to his feet and began to stumble closer. He paid little heed to the spicy aroma of wolves beneath the brine in the air, and zeroed in on the thin canine instead. Snitch made it about a wolf-length closer before he caught his feet on something sharp, and abruptly stopped, his nose turning sharply down while an absolutely offended expression shot across his young face. Evidently he wasn't so careful when striding along the barnacled shoreline; some of them had caught upon his pads and torn them, leaving his toes stinging and his attention divided.