Wheeling Gull Isle run the voodoo down

Rokig had stayed close to Undersea lately. Minding his own business and guarding the island. Typical things he did. Granted he had been feeling a bit strange after the whole bird incident. He tried his best to ignore it. Which was considerably hard but whatever. Fishing could distract him and scouting could too. Not that he considered himself an actual scout because he just...was not built for that line of work.

He wandered along the sandbar that morning with hopes of finding something to go after. Something not feathery. He did indeed spot something not feathery but it wasn't something he could hunt. A soft sigh escaped him but he took what he could get.

A low whuff escaped him as he approached the other, practically ignoring the half-buried carcass.