Wheeling Gull Isle he hapalua ia o ka honua,

As many a time before did Aiolos watch down the beachside as he rounded the outskirts of his home. The news of the many deaths upon the mainland had plagued him, the loss of those gone on his own land made his gut stir. He found comfort in his treks around the island, found the sound of the waves and the rolling of saltwater over his ankles soothing. He was lost in his own thoughts, allowing them to take him elsewhere. Allow them to tear him away from the sorrows of life which weighed on him.

Then, a form along the beach captured his attention, bringing him back to the realities he could only escape for so long. Instantly his thoughts lingered to Jaime and how he too had been left battered and bruised on their beach. This man looked nothing like the young, petite coywolf that once had lived here and yet he too did not look completely wolf either. A large beast, boxy and rounded more so then a wolf. His facial features too were off and Aiolos found his structure reminding him something akin to Kynareth...

The dark red hairs along his nape began to prickle and the Greek moved forward toward's the large, pale wraith which came washed up along their coastline. Your not the first our Sea has chewed up and spit out onto our shore. Aiolos murmured as he came nearer, mindful to keep a safe distance should the injured half-breed become agressive by his own need for survival on stranger tides. I'm sure not the last, either. He then mused, fiery amber eyes moving over the length of his injuries- to his back leg up his flank and the gash over his brow. Perhaps the Sea has reason to bring you to our borders.