Wheeling Gull Isle swiggity swooty

Rotating his head left to bring the girl into view would have been too much of a chore for Yuda. It was both an unnecessary and an unwanted task that presented itself. Hope was not the correct word to name the specific feeling he had of no other wolf having presence on the small isle; yet, in a certain way, meaning magnified many times over, it could be the primary word listed, among others. Yuda would always desire isolation over the company of any living thing. Peace with the world would be the unnoticed sensation, though the mind of the growing boy could never be named peaceful by any terms.

Dark eyes stared forward, even while his neck turned to look at a girl just as dark. A minute huff came out of a wet nose. Droplets of water slowed their descent from his matted pelt, but the dripping still occurred. There was nothing else Yuda did, for just the effort of giving note of the female was enough to last him for days.