Blackwater Islands gemini feed

With the worst of the cold behind them, Whip spent more and more time within the Thistlewood as opposed to the shoreline. The Mother's call to the sea affected the others deeply -- as it also did for Whip -- and yet, the forest called to him as well. There was so much life within; so much vibrancy that Whip wished to lose himself in. But most of all, the forest was Whip's sanctuary. It was a quiet place where he could go to be alone. For an avoidant soul like Whip, a place like this was practically heaven. He could reflect. He could sleep. All undisturbed.

But, Whip was not alone this day. He had not accompanied her, but Whip had watched from afar. She was just as beautiful as she had been that day he first saw her struggling to stand. Perhaps even more so with her strength returning fast. From where Whip stood, he listened. her voice was like a whisper. He cold hardly hear it from his place among the thicket. The plant that she actively examined at her forepaws was one that Whip had seen before, though he did not know its name or use. However, it was common in the Thistlewood.

He stepped forward, signaling his approach with a throaty chuff. "You're walking!" he then exclaimed. There was an undeniable enthusiam in his voice (which sounded foreign even to Whip himself).