Barrow Fields tessellate

Komodo furrowed his coffee-stained brow at the girl’s festering comments. The angakkuq wasn’t exactly certain what to make of these assertions, as they were his first touchpoint with the wolves of the island in months since his departure, and they weren’t exactly favorable. Such, Seelie was healthy with her family and that was all well and good, but what is all of this about expending their resources upon wolves whom held their island sanctuary in such little regard? Coelacanth might be partial to taking in the broken and the bruisesd, as was the shaman himself, but Komodo had long since decided to focus his efforts on the ones who decided to stay. The effort he but into his healing must not be outweighed by the reward. He was not the only vagrant in the world, but he had a sneaking suspicion that he was the only one who ever planned on returning back where they once started and for that, they must be prepared. For many, it seemed that life was only a vague jumping off points for their next adventures — a young Komodo might have agreed, or wondered if they were actually wrong.

The man’s jawline grit and grew strong. The front of his body tightened, as he masked a command as a careful question. “Why dun yew jus’ cum back wit’ me?” the man said, his tone not unkind. “Sumtimes it’s betta to cut yer loses and save yer energy for the thangs yuh kin change. Y’aint much use to no one if yuh keel ova’ frum exhaustion.”