Wheeling Gull Isle the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking

lol the inspiration for this post was that one scene from forest gump where he keeps running back into the battlefield to save his friends

 

The storm raged on, reaching its peak and undulated at such force for hours upon hours; at first Komodo had retreated to the sanctity of the trees, whose tough trunks were intended to bear the gale force winds that the sea could make The winds whipped up the water into whitecaps, which thrashed angrily against the battered sands - the undertow would suck the water far out but the pressures of the storm cell would rebel thrust it back with such force that it rocked the earths itself. The trees themselves bent and whipped about; the jagged silhouettes of their branches bright against the stormy skies whenever lightening scorched across it, lighting the tumultuous milieu for a moment before it all went dark again. 

It was not long before such power drew the earthstalker from the forested inlands so that he could view the fury of god in all its triumph — the seas and the squall, the wind and the debris — with the stringing rain in his eyes and the roaring gales in his ears, Komodo found that many of his faculties had been deadened; but the brute steeled his body and forged his way through the deluge, the gusts of winds strong enough to make him lose his grip upon the earth and stumble about once or twice. The punished raged on around him and he welcomed such a punishment with the entirety of his being; he leapt at the wind, snapped his ivories at the air and let out strange barks that were easily drowned out but the squalling roar, and when the man had tired, he turned to back to fade, once more, into the trees. The stormed raged between the trees, but the force was, for the most part, deflected by the timbers and infinitely safer than the exposure the beach provided.

But he was not alone.

There was a figure in the distance — and though Komodo squinted his eyes against the rain and grit his teeth, he could only see that it moved slowly. It surely did not look well and Komodo redirected his trajectory with several heavily-placed, sure-footed steps and within moments it became clear that the thing was another wolf, utterly sodden and stumbling ineffectively in the winds. The situation did not call for formalities and without much introduction or ceremony, the hulking brute pulled up beside the other’s body and braced himself against the its broken form. Any scent indicator that this was @Adeline was all but obliterated in the briny, pervasive wetness. ”I’ve got yah,” he spoke to the wolf, his words felt as a rumble in his chest more than they were heard. The two only needed to make it a little bit father inland, and harborage would be theirs.

But Komodo had turned his gaze just at the moment that another was spat from the waves; a small, dark, unmoving mass deposited upon the eroded, blasting sands. Responding immediately, Komodo stiffened for a moment and then spoke directly into the other’s ear. ”Go inland or come with me — you go no where else, y‘hear? His voice was nothing short of a yell, struggling to be head over the maelstrom. If the wolf went either way, it would be fine — but should it get misdirected in the fracas, survival couldn't be promised.

Without leaving much time for the other to protest, the Shaman lunged away and back towards the place that water met land. Without knowing what or who he was grabbing (@Anatha), the angkkuq’s jaws found a soft pelt and clamped down. He began tugging the weight of the thing backwards, jerking and yanking and fighting against the wind — and hoping that the thing he wrested from the sea was in the sweet throes of unconsciousness, not privy to the war that waged on around it.