Wheeling Gull Isle I'll be there next time

Faeryn briefly pondered how different her life had become - first she was a traveller, continiously switching between homes, now she was settled on the edge of an island embracing the peace of this new home. This one, however, was one she intended to keep. Before, she did not stop; she was never allowed to. Whether by fault of her own or simply the nature of wolves, her homes had never lasted. But here, with the gentle slosh of the waves, she was content.

The silence was interrupted (though not unwelcomingly) by a somewhat familiar voice. She'd run into Droman a couple of times now, and his company was certainly not a bothersome one. "Hey there." The wolfess smiled, tail gently thumping against the sand. "You're bored? Hmmm... how about we tell stories? Or jokes? I'm not sure." Truthfully, she still wasn't the best at conversations.