Wheeling Gull Isle And I don't even care about what people say

It was going to take a little while for Lucas to shake this one off. Eventually he would. It helped that Moorhen was explaining with a little more patience now, and he lifted his pale eyes as she motioned to the wood pile. Small sticks would just decay and get sucked back into the ground or something. Big sticks were the problem. Okay, he guessed that made sense.

Sure, he agreed, falling in behind Moorhen. He still felt kind of bad about himself for giving anyone a reason not to like him right off the bat—that pendulum had swung back so that he blamed himself now. But he kept it from his face as best he could, smiling warmly as he followed the Akhlut and took mental notes on how best to help with the island clean-up in the future.

Can fade here or continue, whichever works best!