Wheeling Gull Isle yippee-ki-yay

@Driftwood, do you want a slightly backdated pre-storm thread? Seelie would love the distraction, and we haven’t had a thread in quite a while!

The atramentous Athelas found that even her restless pacing could not satisfy the itch beneath her skin. She was as electric as the distant storm, buzzing with worry and heavy with defeat, and by the time she broke away from her obsessive circling (after one last circle, then two more, then three, until she’d reached a coveted six) she was panting and feverish. She flew to the water’s edge, where @Stockholm and @Komodo’s comingled scents lingered; they had crossed to the mainland to start searching, and she was both furious and relieved that she had not been invited.

There was part of her that wanted to search alone — the, “If I want something done right, I had better do it myself,” mentality that sometimes got in her way.

Grief-stricken, the little wolfdog threw back her head and mourned, long and low — but there was no song to be heard, just an endless, undulating sigh.