Wheeling Gull Isle A measure of memory

The waves helped her heart beat as they broke upon the shore in rhythmic pulses. The pulsing winds filled her lungs, billowing her sails. Thresher had returned to her homelands, and tasted the salt that was infused with her blood from birth. 

Wheeling Gull Isle was her birthplace- and to it, she had returned. 

The landbridge was apparent, and she crossed already knowing others had taken up residence in her homeland. Their scent was there, she would never have been surprised to see her homelands claimed in her absence. 

When she reached the island, she lay upon the sand, felt the cool winds tussle her fur, and she began to wait for a patroller to come along.