Totoka River I didn't actually sell my last car; I just forgot where I parked it

dated the 16th. Yuelong wolves?

The ocean was nice. That was an understatement, but Timberlake was so relaxed that he really couldn't come up with a better word than "nice." He'd let his stress ebb with the tides, chasing little scuttling crabs and pouncing in the surf. Slept under the warm sun, soaking up its rays. Rolled in the sand. Tasted salt.

He was every tourist on a beach, ever. He was loud, obnoxious and exuberant. And on the end of the third day, as the sun set over the horizon, Timberlake noticed the island.

He cocked his head as he stared at the dark lump across the waves, rising up from the sea. The tide was high, and thus the land bridge was not visible (and thus unknown to Timberlake). How did one get there? He could swim, sure, but he wasn't sure if he was up for the challenge. He would sink, surely. Maybe if he got up the gumption. . .

Indecision paralyzed him, standing at the water's edge.