Wheeling Gull Isle picks himself up and keeps climbing for the prize again

As soft and gentle as he had tried to be in intruding upon Mou's state of distraction, the other male still flinched a little. Driftwood winced, too, though mostly inwardly; that was not the foot he had wanted to start off on. Whoops. Mou seemed to recover quickly enough and come back to himself, thankfully; Driftwood's face brightened with a wider smile in response to Mou's own. The Seawolf cocked a droop-tipped ear and listened hard to Mou's breathy words. It took a little bit of guessing to divine their meaning, but seemed fairly clear for all that, in this instance. (And he had thought Seelie was soft-voiced, wow!)

Driftwood bobbled his head back at the other, eagerly, and said, Oh, I'm doing fairly well. It's a lovely day today, isn't it? He looked first up at the skies, with the few clouds studding it pristinely white and far-off, and then across at the gently lapping waves. Just the sight of it all caused Driftwood's tail to stir. Were you looking at the ocean? —I can help you across the shore, if you'd like, he added brightly, seeking some way to make himself of better assistance as ever. The water is extra-nice on a day like this, you know. Yes, surely the gentle waves would be a good thing for poor Mou, and help him reconnect with where and who he was. Driftwood ought to know. He grinned at his packmate, thinking that this happy prospect would certainly make up for his interrupt-y-ness, at least. Though it didn't seem like whatever thoughts he had intruded on were particularly happy ones, so far as he could see. He wasn't about to grill Mou to make sure though, what with the cloudy-furred male's continuing difficulties with speech and continued struggle to recover in general. It didn't seem an auspicious time to talk about it even if Mou had particularly wanted to.