Wheeling Gull Isle If you can’t beat ‘em

The voice that rang out across the sand wasn't any more familiar than other visitors. There was something about it that drew Mou from the hideaway with the kids, though. He passed Maegi an unreadable look and kissed the children with careful nudges while they lay bundled with her, then departed from them.

Knowing that his niece was still hunting for her father, that the same father likely was scouring the coast for signs of his mate, kept Mou in a constant state of worry over his own family. Mou knew only what darkness the Wilds had brought to him; he had hoped for a fresh start on the island and to keep far from his blood-family, however fate (or the curse that lay upon him) refused to accept that.

When he crested a cache of stone where the trees could shelter him, Mou looked out across the sand in the distance, pausing when his remaining eye could discern the rough cut of a silhouette. He was not usually on border patrol as two eyes were always better than his one - so he hung back with the shadows to keep observing, deciding slowly if he should stay or go.