Wheeling Gull Isle a place called kokomo

@Komodo ♥

The encounter with Dakarai had shaken Coelacanth badly, and she’d taken to actively avoiding even the wolves she’d come to trust. It was on a cool, dew-laden morning that she broke this self-imposed period of isolation, and the first wolf she sought out was the Earthstalker. Delicate paws traced an unerring path through the island’s untamed foliage; like her sheepdog brethren, Seelie kept a nearly obsessive eye on her flock and this instinctive desire ironically made her a better wolf. When she came upon Komodo’s sleeping form, her tufted ears fanned cautiously forward, and she slunk out of the shadows with timorous care.

The little wolfdog nosed at the angakkuq’s cheek, but the solid warmth of him was too tempting to leave alone. For the first time since the last time they’d lain together on this island, she tiptoed nearer and fitted her body against his, resting her muzzle across his outstretched forelegs to look beseechingly at his sleeping face. Half of her wanted him to wake up and look at her, to smile at her and call her “big ears” — but the other half was afraid that he would be offended with her recent avoidance.