Wheeling Gull Isle solitude

It surprised him when Heda turned up with someone else alongside her. Caracal angled his face to study the stranger with his good eye. He was like no wolf he’d ever seen. He made a curious noise in his throat before his gaze shifted to Heda, face lighting up at the sight of her.

Good to see you! he echoed enthusiastically. Nice to meet you, man, I’m Caracal, he added to Heda’s companion. So you guys live here? That’s cool, he said, wondering about that black wolf who’d been here before.

But a lot of things could change in a year, even less. He took a step back to give his pelt another shake without spraying the other two, pondering his last interactions with Heda before they’d parted ways. Even before their travels and the incident with the goose, they’d been friendly.

“I just don’t think I’m destined to be really close with anyone, you know?” he remembered her saying to him once. She’d told him how she didn’t feel cut out for friendships. But he’d always enjoyed her company and Caracal hadn’t missed the warm look she’d given this Bartholomew guy.

Smiling fondly at the young woman, Caracal said, I’d love to hear about this Sweetharbor, if you guys have the time to spare.