Wheeling Gull Isle parted seas

very well,

he agreed without complaint. he supposed if he ever wished to truly care for a flock, he ought to learn how to thrive in the wild. including how to spar. the word so natural on her tongue and foreign for him.

young hunter, young barbarian.

perhaps the purpose of their meeting had been more faith based than he had thought. she might find purpose and refine her skills in teaching such a man like himself. God's will was not yet whispered to him like how it once did.

without a word, he rolled back onto his stomach and raised himself to a stand.

his path would cut them into a cavern (cerulean cascades) soon enough, if she followed.