Wheeling Gull Isle unalaq

Mojag felt more like himself each day, yet in the evenings he felt a stirring in his belly like the sea was inside of him again.

He would watch the sky; some nights it was clear and he'd think of his father. When it became cloudy on occasion he'd imagine his mother.

Tonight, there was a smog lingering upon the sea that made the island feel more isolated. The stars were hidden - the sun, slowly setting, would be out of reach of his gaze too soon enough.