Wheeling Gull Isle wanderer, what are you searching for?

Once Aditya’s thirst was quenched, Coelacanth planned to lead him to the caches — but as he drew back, she espied the trembling of his body and knew they would go no further. With an airy, toneless whine of dismay, she tucked her tiny frame against his far broader one, doing her best to make him feel warm and safe. Their conspicuous difference in size rendered her meager attempt a laughable enterprise at best, but a soft, satisfied purr burbled in her throat anyway as she began to gently bathe his face, clearing the granules of sand and salt from his sleeping lashes. Already she loved him — and oh, how she wished to lay claim to him! It was easy to keep herself awake as the golden wolf slept, her wild imagination conjuring dream after rosy dream of his continued stay upon her island. Perhaps he would fall in love with beautiful, blue-eyed Faeryn, or even with Ixchel, the spirited calico tiamat! Coelacanth decided that the second option was the best one, for Ixchel was a Corten and her marriage to Aditya would make him one, too. Happily now, she rested her chin upon the wolf’s flank, savoring the slow rise and fall of his breath. It was blissfully free of the bubbling, gurgling sound that signified a particularly bad case of drowned lung. He would get better.