Wheeling Gull Isle i'm growing and it hurts

Almost a year. It had been almost a year since Droman's birth, and while he remained a youth by any standard, his adult years were beginning to creep to the forefront. It was time that he settle on a trade, or else he run the risk of becoming just another name lost in the breeze. There were wolves who allowed themselves to come and go without leaving their mark on the world that they traversed, and while that nomadic life with no ties attatched did sound attractive to Droman's wandering heart, he knew that it wasn't the path he'd been destined to follow. 

It was clear which trade he wished to pursue, but it meant that he would need more practice by the shore. The moon sat high and aglow, watching down as he stepped carefully through the rising tides.