Wheeling Gull Isle but i just can't believe him

@Bartholomew @Heda

He was not the first wolf to wash up on the shores of Wheeling Gull Isle, and surely not the last. But he did not know that. In fact, he did not know much of anything. He had no memory of having left a pack called Firebirds two years ago, and no memory of what had happened since then. All he knew now was the smell of salt, the taste of it, the grit of sand in his mouth, his eyes, his fur, between his toes. His electric blue eyes cracked open, but could not focus easily. And as he lay there, a sharp pain like fire lanced through his body from an old wound, following the branching lightning scars along his body. He grit his teeth, baring his fangs in pain, and groaned.