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

He had not met anyone like Driftwood during his stay so far, and it took him by surprise when a flurry of words came from him. Mou had half-expected that each wolf would be the same: quiet and soft like Coelacanth, serious and grim like Reed. This wolf was not of those tropes — he launched in to details and was awash with interest in the surroundings. Mou smiled awkwardly when the quiet returned and a moment later, realized he hadn't quite caught it all. Not that he couldn't understand or couldn't hear, but, he had been surprised and — well, it didn't really matter. But he registered now that he was being invited closer to the sea.

Not wanting to disappoint the stranger (he was eager to please at this point in his recovery since there was little he could do as compensation for all their effort), he struggled to his feet and with shaking limbs, began to descend the grassy knoll. Mou did not want to go closer to the sea out of fear he might fall in again, but he felt compelled to at least try since he had company. If anything did go wrong then at least he'd have someone to help him. He got a few paces before he had to stop, and sagged against the earth, looking at his new companion apologetically.