Wheeling Gull Isle A simple song

Driftwood was simply too excited to sleep tonight.

He had found himself a place to drink, and washed the worst of the salt off, and then drank some more, until it seemed the small pond would surely be drained dry... It wasn't, though, and after he had curled up for a bit of an afternoon nap he had awoken bright-eyed and bushy-tailed once more, adrenaline racing through him as he clung to Coelacanth's last words to him: Welcome home. It was strange, yet energizing and inspiring, to have someplace to call home once more. He hadn't had that in...well, to be honest he couldn't exactly remember how long, but in his gut he knew it had been a while, long enough that the feeling was something rare and valuable, to be savored like the fresh meat of a big kill straight off the bone.

Not to mention the energizing fun of having new places to explore, the inspiration of new vistas to regard with such ample splendiforous scents, sounds, and sights. Already he was falling in love with this island, and felt as if he belonged. He had always loved the sea, and this island had plenty of it all around, of course—not to mention the plentiful and delicious smaller prey that scurried about on land, and the big beautiful trees that seemed to ring much of the interior. Now he took a moment to stand and stare out across the sandy expanse to the water, with the lovely way the moonlight skipped across the intermittent small tidepools on its journey across the sand to lay a rippling silver path across the water serving as a balm to his soul. He lifted his nose and took in a deep, appreciative breath—and was surprised to taste a strengthened note within that noseful of air. He sniffed again more carefully, perking his ears and looking cautiously about, but it took him a moment to spot the ethereal glowing ghost of a form that was its source further down the beach. He hesitated a moment before approaching at a slow trot.

He had to wonder as he jogged forth if perhaps this one was secretly the twinned opposite of Coelacanth. She seemed to have some of the same strangely floaty silent movement across the wet sands, and her fur positively glowed in the moonbeams. He had a sneaking suspicion that Seelie must be at least part-faerie, and that perhaps this interesting female might be also. A faerie with magical powers over moonlight, ocean, or both, perhaps... His own footsteps slackened pace as he drew nearer, with ears perked and tail wagging optimistically loose and high—maybe this interesting-looking creature would also share Seelie's playful kindness, too? She reminded him much more of Seelie than of The Grump, at least. He stretched out his neck a little ways and let out a low and hopeful woof.