Wheeling Gull Isle maybe when the coast is clear

Backdated to April 22, 2018. Please allow @Lavender and @Grayday to post first. Bad Dog Seelie is back, @Komodo, @Moorhen, and @Stockholm ♥

I struggled with tenses in this thread; sorry. ;-;

Coelacanth’s oven is preheated and ready for pupcakes.

TRAVEL LOG
April 13, 2018: Sea Lion Shores
April 14, 2018: Horizon Ridge
April 15, 2018: Raven’s Watch
April 16, 2018: Hushed Willows
April 16 — 18, 2018: Morningside
April 19, 2018: Hushed Willows
April 20, 2018: Barrow Fields
April 21, 2018: Ravensblood Forest

Coelacanth, Lavender, and Grayday reached the Southern Strand just after midnight.

For Seelie, the journey home had been a pleasant one — but she couldn’t speak for her companions. The Aralez’s love for the willow grove had drawn her back through the maze of winnowing, whispering tendrils; belatedly, she’d realized the obstacle course it presented for Grayday, but he’d insisted that he was fine. She’d done her best not to let him knock into any of the trunks, as had Lavender, but the sheepdog worried in retrospect that being in a territory full of long-limbed trees had been a little disconcerting for him no matter what he’d said or how many times he’d said it. She’d been relieved, therefore, when they’d bedded down in a span of less congested fields the following night, where the scent of saline mingled with new spring grass and the crash of the sea seemed to ricochet off the barrows. Stockholm! The bloodfire had chased away sleep and hunger in an all consuming tide, but despite her hormonal state, she’d maintained a measured pace.

The third day of travel had revealed a minor tragedy: Constantine and Durnehviir had vacated Ravensblood Forest. Seelie had never gone to visit them despite her best intentions and she regretted it sorely now, for gone was any possibility of reunion with the fiery-eyed Mayfair and her golden-eyed Mouse. The bad news had put a barb in her temper, but she’d been careful not to vent her frustrations during her interactions with Grayday and Lavender; if anything, she’d probably been annoyingly clingy, seeking physical contact to soothe at least some of the itch beneath her skin.

Now, as she gently shepherded Grayday and Lavender further inland, she pantomimed howling. Perhaps one of them would do the honors, as she was still unable to do so. “Welcome home,” she breathed to the Morningsiders, leading them to an open clearing with a burbling stream.