Wheeling Gull Isle I didn't drown; I couldn't seem to die

The traces of Vesper had been just that. Traces. Nothing came of them, and she remained alone, wishing she had just stayed with Bronco in the first place. Where had he gone? Back to Fennec? To his son?

It didn't matter. She'd left. And she was alone. 

And Blueberry returned to the only place where she hadn't felt so alone and where everything had been right. She came to mope and sulk and fill her belly with dead fish. 

Except, here, solitude would not be her companion. 

She sniffed at the borders on the edge of the island, up to her ankles upon the slightly submerged sand bridge. A scowl painted her face. She was in tumult, waves around her churning as a storm came in. 

The moon was hidden, and her pale figure was a bright blotch in the darkness of night. 

She howled, hoping to find a place to sleep before the thunder and rain rolled by in earnest.