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

Driftwood tilted his head and leaned over to sympathetically examine the paw Maegi was wiggling in demonstration, and to quickly count all its toes. Yep, they appeared to all still be attached; good, good. Well, they definitely are pinchers. Honestly, maybe we should all call them that anyhow... might give the unwary innocents out there a little more forewarning, right?!

He was glad she seemed more than willing to change the subject and forgive his inept and overcurious nature. That had definitely not been the case with all the wolves he had met here on this island. His heart warmed toward the lovely and loving little creature that was Maegi though; so far as Driftwood was concerned, this was only further incontrovertible proof of her innate awesomeness. It was definitely not a given that all creatures would let him "get away" with his silly mistakes, and though the details of some of those encounters might be a little hazy in his mind, Maegi stood out as an inspirational shining star stamped firmly in his mind beside them by comparison. Driftwood bounced eagerly up at her suggestion, instantly willing to drag her along with him in his beachcombing endeavors. Maybe she'd like the shells they found just as much as Seelie and Driftwood himself, and that would help him pay her back for her amazing bravery and fortitude shown earlier, in standing up to those rotten horses and helping him sneak away!

Yes—that'd be wonderful! I can show you all the best spots I've found to look for them, he burbled happily, tail all a-wag. And as a bonus, to boot, the nearest of those spots was futher away from the horses. This was a great plan, and Maegi was once again inadvertently but doubtlessly demonstrating her brilliance in suggesting it. She was so sensitive and smart, and so wise for someone so young: Driftwood was very glad indeed to have her for a packmate. ...Though admittedly he would have happily gone along with nearly anything she suggested, save for any hint of having to approach those dratted horses once again. Shell-hunting was indeed paradisiacal by comparison. It'll be great! Let's go! His paws were already doing a happy little dance of anticipation, and he'd be off like a shot the instant she made the tiniest move to follow after him. Probably babbling his fool head off even more in the bargain as he did so, odds were.