Wheeling Gull Isle There's a Fine, Fine Line

<3 No worries!

His eyes roved the sands anxiously for a few minutes that seemed to him to last much longer. Then she appeared, a small figure beyond the woodpile with her small dark ears turned attentively in his direction. His expression lightened all at once, and he opened his mouth again as his tail began to fan the air behind his rump ever-quicker, but found himself lost for words for another heartwrenchingly-long brief moment. Her voice caressing his name with no hint of her former anger was like balm to his soul as it swept into his own ears. Moorhen! he responded gladly, and flew across the sand toward her, hardly noticing that he stepped on one of his precious seashells as her rounded the woodpile in the process.

He skidded to a halt just before he reached her, an impressive spray of sand arcing in the wake of his paws. His feet couldn't keep themselves still however, and hopped and skipped about in delighted puppyish fashion. You're back, you're back— oh, it's so good to see you again! An ingratiating smile curved from ear to ear, but even in his enthusiasm he was careful to keep his body low, his brown ears half-folded and his tail below the level of his spine. He definitely did not want to upset her again like he had with Teleklos. No, he'd been trying so hard to be so very good, and hadn't gone after her (hardly) at all, see! Driftwood hoped that her little vacation from his presence would have softened Moorhen's harsh attitude from before...and while her tone of voice just now seemed promising, he was afraid to trust in that too far only to find himself mistaken. You've been gone so long, he babbled on, mostly relieved but also feeling a return of that same strange tension around her as before. And as was common with him, he tend with his fretfulness mainly by stepping up his unthinking torrent of words. I hope everything went all right, and where did you visit, anyway? His brain rang a few alarm bells as it heard him rambling on in this vein: wait, was it really a good idea to remind her that she'd been going to other places besides the home island here? What if she started to recall how much she'd liked it there, and wanted to return! Driftwood hastily plunged onward without really waiting for an answer, hoping to obscure such a possibility. Fortunately, he had a pretty good distraction right here at hand...he hoped.

I made you a thing, look! He blurted out the words and then danced a few pawsteps sideways, flicking his nose indicatively toward the newly-decorated borders of the tall stack of wood. I mean, I gathered a bunch of things and— well, as you can see, they're all here. Do you like it?! Oh crap, what if she didn't like it? What if she resented his interference in her absence, and demoted him, or ostracized him, or— or— I added to the pile in the middle a little too, I mean, that wasn't all I did while you— I can undo it if you don't like it though, right away, I promise. His eyes sought her face and scanned it in pleading desperation for a sign of either approval or wrath. He still wasn't quite certain what would summon the stormier side of her nature, but hopefully he hadn't stumbled upon the magic button to do so by accident, here. His tawny golden eyes flicked briefly back toward his artistic creation, and he visibly flinched as he spied the shell he'd stomped on earlier and cracked in half, half-raising a paw in its direction and wishing he could somehow run right over and fix it without Moorhen's noticing. Bit late for that now however, now that he had so eagerly pointed the whole thing out to her. Damn it! It had been almost perfect, until he'd blunderingly managed to ruin it again. He was all too good at that, wasn't he.