Wheeling Gull Isle young blood, gotta pull the trigger

Akantha didn't bother with a reply and stood there stiffly—defiantly, until the pair were well across the sandbar and out of sight. Only then did she whirl in a burst of frustration and set about marking the nearest thing she came to. She did this, stopping every one-hundred feet or so to mark another spot and waft her scent across the island until she collapsed upon a rock, spent. Akantha surveyed the shoreline of Ankyra Sound until she could no longer hold her eyes open, and drifted off into a fitful slumber.