Wheeling Gull Isle a million little gods causing rainstorms

The lagoon was one of her favorite places. There was never a lack of things to do, or animals to be seen. She could practice her fishing, here. It was a quiet place to pray, to get away from the world for a little bit. And the sun looked so beautiful, rising over the water. She rose just at dawn and headed that way, in time to see the golden orb climb through the sky.

So captivated was she by the sight that she missed the lump of gray-green on the shore, initially. It was the squawking birds that drew her attention; they didn't make such a racket unless they'd found food. Her mismatched gaze lowered to them, and to the distinctly wolf-shaped object that they surrounded. Curious--and a bit alarmed--she padded quickly towards the water, pace increasing as her vision confirmed that it was, indeed, a wolf.

Waterlogged and wounded. Blood oozed from the body, which was barely alive; the rise and fall of ribs gave that away. The birds flapped their wings indignantly at her as she approached, but she paid them no mind, her focus solely for the wolf. A little timidly, Maegi nosed the man's shoulder, then his cheek, hoping to rouse him. She took a clumsy step back as she realized he was missing an eye, and cocked her head, intrigued.

Marred, like her. But clearly on death's door. Tipping her nose back, she howled for Stockholm, knowing that Coelacanth had just given birth and might not be up to coming down to the shore at this time. Then she began to gather seaweed from the edge of the water, wondering if it might have the same blood-soaking effect that moss did so well for wounds.