Wheeling Gull Isle suffering

it was curiosity as the land bridge revealed itself to him in the waning of the tide, about the island and about the flora that might be indigenous to it and no where else in the wilds, that initially draws him in. it's the disappearance of the land bridge that compels him to stay. he swims out, enjoying the salt bath but does not attempt the arduous swim back to the main land. he'd have to stay until the land bridge revealed itself to him once more. he'd found a fat rabbit to sate the worst of his hunger and had just begun to turn his attention to the flora once more when a scream of pain cuts through the sea brine, cooler in the night than it was during the day. the gulls have gone silent for the night, roosting, and at first he convinces himself it came from the mainland. sound travels, after all.

until he hears it again. and then a third time. search for unique and useful flora abandoned he pinpoints the sound to the beach and at first, does not see the heap of she-wolf where she's collapsed upon the sand. she and the sand are the same color but her smell, punctuated by blood as it was despite being mixed with the scent of the sea tells him that she's there; and as brisbane draws nearer a mass he might've otherwise disregarded as flotsam a distinctly canine form takes shape.

shit. he draws. the tide has not yet reached it's highest peak yet and, for the moment, her head, facing in towards the island, is safe. a glimpse heavenward tells him it wouldn't be long before she was at real risk of drowning. he can't assess the damage out here, with the waves constantly lapping over her and her wounds. the salt water worked as a powerful — if not painful — cleanser but the point was he needed to move her.

not knowing the extent of her injuries or if grabbing her by the scruff and dragging her further up the beach would make them worse he hesitates visibly. first thing was first though, he had to try to get her conscious to get her out of the foaming tide as he rules out physically dragging her as a last resort. hey, he says after he nudges her face with his muzzle, realizing how close he was to her teeth and feeling the muscles of his shoulders pull taunt as he expects retaliation if he can manage to coax her awake. you need to get up, else you'll drown in the high tide.