Wheeling Gull Isle if only time flew like a dove

Driftwood shut his eyes and reveled in the lovely Moorhen's teeth play-biting at his throat. He may have loosed his own teeth's grip in the process a little, just a little driven to distraction—but either way, he opened his eyes again as Moorhen pulled herself free. The freezing cold water at is back suddenly seemed extra cold. Driftwood flailed right-side-up, suppressing a yip as the icy waters and refrigerated sand now tickled his belly on both sides, instead. But there were more important things to be concerned about right now. M-Moorhen? Driftwood's claws dug into the sand, standing by ready to lever himself up as his anxious gaze tracked the girl. You're— you're leaving?

By the jut of her tail and the bounce in her stride she seemed not at all reluctant, either. And she didn't bother replying with words. Driftwood swallowed hard and stood up more slowly, trying to tell himself that it was only what he'd expected, that he had had no exact plans here and therefore was not, could not possibly be disappointed by any sort of letdown... But that made it awfully hard to explain the hollow pit in his stomach, or the sideways lurch of his heart in her chest as Moorhen steadly retreated from him at a determined ground-eating trot. Driftwood's tail drooped earthward, and his own feet felt leaden as it crossed his mind that he was quite wet and the fitful wind was now chipping steadily away at his body warmth. Though that seemed nothing compared to the miserable chill gathering in his heart.

She'd taken the Thing, though... surely that counted for something? Driftwood shivered, and moved toward the shelter of the trees. He found a thick carpet of pine needles to quickly roll himself in, and leave himself mostly dry, if a little bit stickily pitch-furred. Then, unable to quite help himself, and carefully not thinking about exactly what he was doing, he put his nose to the ground and followed the trail Moorhen had left, though he tried to keep a little bit of distance between the two of them—again uncertain as to what reception he'd receive, especially since she seemed to have made her wishes pretty clearly known this time. But...but maybe she'd change her mind soon. Who knew.