Wheeling Gull Isle You Dream About Going Up There, But That is a Big Mistake

To her relief, Driftwood calmed substantially once they were away from the horses, giving her a chance to see his true personality. Maegi smiled softly as he went into detail about his pastimes, ears perking as he mentioned collecting seashells. She shook her head as he cut himself off, presumably feeling abashed by how much he talked.

"That's cool," she said, eyes glowing. "The seashells. . . My brother used to collect interesting objects, too. And seashells are pretty. There's a lot to see here, isn't there?" Maegi asked, casting her gaze to the ocean. "Are you from the sea originally, or is this your first time here?"

So many of the born seawolves seemed so at ease, here. Maegi wasn't sure if she would ever grow to have that sort of familiarity with the waves. It was pretty enough on the island, but she missed the dark forest--the trees, the swamps, the mists. That was her element. Wheeling Gull Isle could not have been more different from her home.