Wheeling Gull Isle i must go down to the seas again

♥!

Axolotl had taken it upon himself to do rounds — similar to patrolling but without borders to actually patrol — he takes to the protection of the wolves that Atlan has spit upon the Isle’s shores seriously. He uses the rounds to search for any new wolves that may have washed up or wandered innocently to the Isle and to hunt for crabs and fish that he takes and leaves at a communal “drop off” for any whom are hungry but lack the energy or health to hunt for themselves. Seafood is not every one’s favorite but for now it is the best he can do (aside from the occasional seagull) — or anyone else for that matter — can do. The tide still poses too much of a threat for anyone to think of swimming or crossing the sandbar. Atlan’s wrath is calming but not to any extent where they are no longer in danger of drowning if they attempt it. Besides, without the sandbar it will prove hard to haul any sort of herd animal across the straight of sea that lay between the Isle and the mainland.

A familiar inkblot takes form and the leviathan’s steps slow to a cease as he watches her propel herself up into the air, as graceful and elegant as a dancer. He is hard pressed to believe that Coelacanth is back to her old self no matter how much he wants to. She has become something feral in the time since he has seen her last and though he hardly can believe she would pose a threat he knows he cannot ignore her massive shift in behavior. “Coelacanth,” The leviathan calls to her across the distance he keeps between them, glacial gaze watching her reaction to him studiously.