Wheeling Gull Isle mere haath mein

it was so tempting to leave it all behind, when he stood here on this island. he knew he must return to morningside eventually, to set things right. to elevate a competent leader to command in his stead, and ensure that everyone and everything would be fine when he left. but right here, right now--all he wanted was to stay here. forever.

the moon glittered on the rippling waves, turned his gilded pelt to silver. he paced the beach, leaving gentle tracks behind. he was at once both restless and at peace, unable to stop walking but unwilling to go any faster. it was an ambling gait he employed, meandering into the surf, letting the cool water kiss his ankles.

the salt air washed away, finally, the smell of death and burning things that had stayed in his nostrils. the sound of the gulls was better music than anything to be found in the maplewood.

should he feel guilty? sure. after everything morningside had done for him, to leave abruptly, without word, was terrible repayment. but he thought grayday might understand, if he saw him now. he knew the man well enough to make that assumption.

and besides, he would be back.

right?