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

There were others around, she knew. She had heard them - sometimes she had even seen them. Glimpses mostly, as the rain was still thundering upon them. The blue wolfess would have remained under the small tree that she had tried to use as a shield, but the call that was just about audible in the storm gave a message that promised something much better. A cave. Wasting no time, Faeryn raced away from the tree as fast as she could (which wasn't very fast, as she could hardly see and her limbs were sore) toward the source of the sound. 

When she arrived at the cave, she flung herself into it, landing in a heap. At least it was shelter. The small dove picked herself up, glancing around as her eyes adjusted. She could actually see now. The girl made out a figure, then instinctively raised her tail and let out a snarl, but she settled slightly when she realised that it was the one who had called. Her eyes shined with gratitude, and she shook her pelt. The stranger seemed distracted by perhaps someone elses presence, so Faeryn picked a spot at the side of the nook in the earth and lay down. Her eyes searched the area around her, shivering slightly. She was still cold, but the shelter helped. The rain, however, had soaked her pelt. "Thank you?" She mumbled, confused despite herself. She was too tired.