Wheeling Gull Isle a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied

Hope i'm not moving too fast... and, of course, anyone is welcome to interject/take control!

One by one, the call was answered. Wolves amassed together from the innards of the island; dripping and pulling out from the inland forests and green areas as had the storm’s fury many days ago. Their milieu was something broken, in the beautiful way that only nature could be broken, but the rhythms of the earth had slowly begun to resume; picked itself up by its shoe laces and restored order to things. The creatures that materialized on the shore were in great variety, from stocky to lithe, from known to unknown. First came a man, dark of fur and sullen in appearance; then the pale woman who was not Aria but enigmatic in her own right; a fae with a coat of fire; a second small woman who was very clearly on the verge of starving with a scared youth and a young man at her side, and then Aria — Aria! — and then, finally, the blue-hued woman. He knew them for nothing more than their appearances, and even that had been unknown to him more than a few second ago. Who were these wolves, brought together by the spirits and the gods? 

The Earthstalker was eager to know them.

The absence of Axolotl did not go unnoticed — but Komodo was not one to make assumptions. The man did seem preoccupied with marking borders and making sure their claim was know. The Earthstalker, a vagrant man who had never known a border in his life, was all too happy to let the leviathan take control of such pursuits. For this, he was somewhat appreciative of Axolotl — an emotion the brute may soon learn to be gravely misplaced. But for now, the mottled man turned his attention to the young thing that voiced concerns they have all entertained at one time or another during the aftermath of the storm. Would they perish here? Had they already perished? Was this island to be their holy sepulcher? 

"We will not die.” Komodo responded gruffly when the male addressed him, hoping to provide an auspice of hope to the girl. His throat felt dry —  not from dehydration, but from the  sudden pressure of many sets of eyes… all on him. What was to happen after the wolves answered his summons did not truly cross his mind, nor anyone else's mind, and their silent, imploring questions fell upon him. It was not unwelcome, as life upon the island was none to different than the lifestyle he had entertained for many years now. Survival, adaptability, resilience; it all came naturally to him, shaped from the impermanence of a wanderer, and he was more than happy to impart such guidance upon others… if they desired it. It’s what he had always been paid to do.

Komodo lifted his gaze, firebright eyes dancing and flashing in the summer sun, and looked at each of his cohorts in turn. Salmon tongue ran along the lines of his lips and he addressed the group. “We do not know one another, but we are all here for a reason.” It was a theory that wracked his mind constantly. There were no contingencies. They had all lived their own lives, completely disassociated from one another, for many years. If Komodo had even doubted the hand of god, this certainly reaffirmed it. One cannot avoid their own fate.

His roughhewn voice rose to be heard by all, sounding quite thick over the placid crashing of the waves. The serenity of the tide obscured and hid the cannonade of currents that lay just underneath. “Here we are all brothers.” Komodo thrust his gaze towards King and Dakarai. “Sisters.” He nodded towards each of the woman who had amassed. They were quite outnumbered. “If we are to thrive with each other, then we must know each other.” Komodo was only one man and though he considered himself quite skilled in the shamanic arts, there were many things he could not do. Like a patchwork quilt, they would all come together to create something beautiful. It was his vision and, he imagined, the vision of others. In times like these, those who were capable were of the utmost value — and that was something the earthstalker was not afraid to admit or recognize.

“If you are injured… this is the time to make it known. There is no weakness in seeking aid.” 

The stench of infection was prominent, but in this large gathering, the source was hard to place. An ailing wolf was of no use to them and it was better to convalesce while the pelagic seaweeds and other mineral-rich supplies were plentiful upon the beach. Such valuable, raw materials were not something he oft utilized and the opportunity excited him. To begin, he introduced himself. “I am Komodo,” a respectable dip of his maw was proffered. “a healer.” Then, with hips curled beneath him, the man sat back to observe who would assume the opportunity to speak first. Now was the time to observe.