Wheeling Gull Isle i don't need another friend, i already have two

plz allow @Coelacanth to reply first! <3 idk how the landbridge works so i hope this is ok but lemme know if this needs editing :)

 

Somehow, he had ended up right back where he started. Face in the sand before an endless body of water with no idea what he was doing with his life. He had no talents, no occupation or hobbies - through experience he had learned he could not even commit to being a slave properly. Isengrim believed in no god, held no guiding morals, and knew little to nothing about the world that surrounded him. Even the bay was now a stranger to him. Julep was likely dead. His parents were too, probably dead. Moorhen had simply vanished and the pirate-esque man they had met who somehow shared a fraction of the same blood as them had seemed far too intense (a trait that reminded him un-fondly of Heda) for the scab to follow up with - he had no interest in being anyone’s bitch again. He would be his own bitch, if that was what his life had truly come to.

Moments of existential reflection turned into hours as he lounged aimlessly on the beach, being pecked over by the occasional scavenging bird as morning transitioned into dusk. What did one do when one had no purpose? Where did one turn when there was nothing left to turn to? He contemplated chucking himself off a high cliff in a similar fashion as he had been shoved into the murky waters as a child, except, in this version, he would not be gasping to the surface in a will to survive. It would have been a simple solution, if he were not such a coward. 

But fate was not done with him yet - as he cracked an eye open to shoo away yet another seagull who mistook him for one of the dead - something he had not quite noticed before was situated right before his eyes. A lone island sat in the distance, accessible only by the fine strip of sand hovering and parting the water like some biblical phenomenon. This was new. Slightly bewildered, he looked around, wondering if anyone else could see this. It sure appeared so, and picking himself up and placing tentative steps forward onto the steady ground, the sandbar seemed to be either a very strong an strange hallucination in which case he was about to drown, or a sign that life wasn't exactly done with him yet. 

Padding silently down the isle, it was clear by scent alone that wolves inhabited the island that sat so far out from the rest of known wolf-civilization, and he instantly wondered why kind of wolf would submit themselves to such isolation. For protection? Perhaps it was some sort of leper colony? Or a cannibalistic tribe of neo-isolationists? Maybe getting stuck on an island with some people he didn't know wasn't the best of ideas, but it wasn't like he had anything else going for him. In fact, this was the most interesting thing that had occurred in his life in the last 3 months - he wasn't about to start being picky now. Coming to a stop a decent ways away from the island itself, he let out a rather lame bark for attention, quite unsure what he was looking for and why he was there.