Wheeling Gull Isle There's a Fine, Fine Line

AHHHH sorry for the wait <3

Returning home had been quite the relief. It had been as she was crossing the landbridge that she'd felt the shift within her; the time for conquering was over, and the time for fortifying had begun. So when she reached the beach, she'd said her hellos to Coelacanth, Stockholm, and the mudpuppies - and then she'd headed straight toward her den below the woodpile. She might've gone in and stayed there for some time if not for the reedy howl that reached her ears; the banded female paused, ears swivelling atop her dark head, and then turned to follow the sound to its source.

Driftwood was there upon the beach; Moorhen remembered how they'd last parted with a dull throb of guilt. She hadn't meant to hang him out to dry for so long, but other worries had overtaken her. "Driftwood," she greeted, her voice was warm as it ever got.