Wheeling Gull Isle but sleep won't set me free

The snow was ebbing, if only a little bit. She noticed a shifting in the wind, as if the storm was preparing to bid them adieu. If she was younger and more naive, she'd think spring was on their heels; alas, she'd lived through nearly four winters now and knew there was a long way to go. 

Still, with a change in the weather brought a newfound sense of hope. Maegi was spending the midday in her garden, thinking of what to plant here.

Poisons? No—she was too afraid of accidental harm coming to the wolves of Yuèlóng. Huā had been kind enough to take them in, but if one of Maegi's flowers killed one of the seawolves, she knew they would face consequences. It was only fair.

Healing herbs, though, could do. Mind-and-body-altering substances like poppies, too. She wished she had gotten here sooner, had thought of planting sooner. She would be playing catch-up when the days grew longer and the earth warmed.

Sighing, she laid upon the damp earth, protected from most of the snow by the trees above, and idly drew her paw along soil still too frozen to dig through.