Wheeling Gull Isle daggers and diamonds

He'd managed to retrieve one small blue shell, and as the appointed time approached crept meekly forward and scootched it across the sand toward Seelie and her brethren, not too close but not too far away. There; now Seelie could add that one to the den when and wherever she wished—although the day was bright and beautiful, and didn't seem in need of further decoration at the moment. He scooted himself back a few steps further, folding his ears neatly back and his hind legs under him, and watched the little ones for a long moment with his eyes bright and his tail thumping. He had never seen canines so small, and he couldn't help but stare in wonder at the petite mouths as they sought for food, the clumsy waving of an impossibly small paw. May your family grow and flourish, he said warmly, quietly, eyes flickering to Coelacanth's face before moving to rest upon Stockholm's face. Then as his eyes turned toward the stranger resting upon the deerskin they grew a little more troubled. He shifted his feet beneath him and almost asked Stockholm about the odd, scarred creature, but for once his mind was quicker than his tongue, and he shut his jaws as he figured that if there were important things the rest of the pack needed to know about these unforeseen circumstances then the leaders would surely let them all know once they were all gathered.

In any case, there was another far more active threat that caught and held his attention instead. First startlement crossed his face, and then a quirk of amusement that crinkled his eyes and upturned the corners of his mouth and tip of his tail as he turned at the sudden flash of movement that was little Fern. Um... I, uh... fear you may be under attack, he tried to inform Stockholm with solemn gravity, although the effect was rather spoiled by the twinkle in his eyes and smirk that was starting to crawl across his face. Do you need rescuing from this most vicious and fierce of tiny predators, Overseer? It would be my greatest honor to protect my leaders so. He included Seelie in the overdramatic bow he swept toward them with his upper body in all its over-the-top formality. He fought back his levity and straightened up after a moment, though, quietly and attentively sitting off to the side as he awaited the probably-more-serious words the pair wished to share with the rest of the island's inhabitants this day.

Beneath his left paw he absently drew squiggles in the sand as he pushed around a smaller-yet smooth pink shell across the myriad golden grains of the beach. ...He didn't really need or expect an answer to his playful queries, really; he was quite sure the leaders had other things on their mind—though he meant the offer to assist with the small nuisance barnacling herself to Stockholm's paw seriously as well; if it would help them to have someone else minding the distraction, Driftwood wouldn't be bothered in the least to play puppysitter. At least until the more-official holder of that position arrived, perhaps. He glanced about to see if such an individual was inclined to appear, though it embarrassed him some to admit that he didn't know who held what subleader areas of expertise within the pack still.