Wheeling Gull Isle solitude

“Come on!”

Oh, shit, Caracal muttered excitedly, I guess we’re doing this.

Without any particular grace, he sprang into the water. He hurled several girlish curses into the air at the chill of it, then quickly began paddling. It was an uneventful swim, really, and he managed to keep any saltwater out of his good eye.

When he reached the shore of the island, Caracal gave himself a mighty shake, then sent up a quick call, “I’m here on the beach!”

Shivering, teeth chattering, he glanced up and down the strip of sand. He had to turn a little to take in everything, on account of his bad eye. But the place looked beautiful, especially considering the season. It had been winter the last time he’d been here too. Caracal wondered how splendid it was in summer.