Wheeling Gull Isle the protectorate of seelholm

The Shadow seemed to share none of her charge's reservations about the place. Rather, she was climbing the walls, blowing ice-clouds into the already heavy air, tail in constant motion as she surveyed this new part of her home.

To Moorhen, it was like something out of a fever dream. She picked her way after the elder wolf, each step chosen carefully in the darkness of the caves. For a while, she could see very little - and then the blue haze above them slowly revealed itself to be not the moon, but a sea of stars, right under the ground. "Um!" said Moorhen, opening her mouth to point out that the sky was right there, close enough to touch, but she was pretty sure none of this was real.

Unable to find the words, she simply followed after her Shadow, tail beginning to wag as the spirit of adventure gripped her heart. Besides, if she was dreaming, they couldn't very well die, could they?