Wheeling Gull Isle come out to the coast

He didn't much like the looks of the skies, and he liked it even less as the air between him and that gray expanse started whipping itself into an increasingly tumultuous frenzy. Driftwood had been trying to make another round of the island, always keeping eyes and nose peeled for friends and strangers alike, but wayward youngsters and hellbent intruders in particular these days—but the growing storm snarled its warnings into his face and increasingly did its best to hamper his steps at every turn. Traversing the normally peaceful and flat beach began to feel like a marathon up a treacherous mountainside as Driftwood leaned into the wind and dug his claws deep into the ground and squinted to and fro as the howling winds snatched his breath away and started tears leaking from his eyes.

He turned to more closely parallel the treeline, but he wasn't ready to seek shelter—not quite yet. He stared at the spot where the welcoming sandbridge usually sprawled, but it seemed to be a roiling mass of water whose dramatic foamy crests left him doubting there'd be anything left even after the wind let the seawater slumber peacefully in its usual bed once more. Was this vicious storm thinking of swallowing up not only the landbridge but also the island entire? It seemed quite possible to him right at this moment. He was almost to the nice thicket of trees with the particularly impressive blue spruce at its heart, where he thought—hoped?—his packmates had already gathered, but even so Driftwood stood there grimly enduring for a few heartbeats longer. Because nearer to the ocean he could see the murky silhouette of Coelacanth, a position that had his heart clawing its way up into his throat. He'd thoughtlessly left her behind before, as he saw it, and almost lost her to Aditya's tender mercies—he was determined such a tragedy never again repeat itself, though what he could do against a bigger and badder maraudig wolf anyhow remained an open question, and what he might do to fight the wind and water themselves was even more dubious yet. He didn't have to go to battle and find out, though, as it transpired; the booming voice of the Overseer cut through the roar of the wind and turned Seelie dutifully back.

Driftwood tried to not leave her too far behind as he scampered to the thick and welcoming branches of the spruce. He gave his fur a quick shake for what precious little good it did before he burrowed into the welcoming shelter in the shadow of the tree, much less cautious than usual of how the stubby tree needles might stab and grab at him or of what limbs and paws of others might be in his way as he ducked and shoved his way into the stately tree's embrace and then buried the cold tip of his muzzle in his paws. Only then did he glance about to try and see who else had made it in here with him (and whose form he might have squooshed and trampled in the process of entering, himself...whoops).