Wheeling Gull Isle kokomo

Kilgitsuk was watching the tide sweeping in, or out. He had been doing it long enough that he wasn't sure which way it was, and that felt applicable to his life right now. He didn't know which way he should go, and stared in to the far distance, a lot on his mind.

When the boy came up the beach Kilgitsuk didn't notice; he didn't pay attention and could not pick out the scent of the wolf beyond the strong aromas around him. It wasn't until he spied a sea bird floating across the sky, sweeping towards the sand, that he noticed their ambling form.

Was it Caracal? He couldn't be sure; maybe it was the nervous girl, or another person entirely - and so he dipped his chin in a friendly nod, and chuffed softly, trying to loosen up and shed his many thoughts (or stuff them deep, deep down) so he could focus.

The boy planted in the sand, sprawling. Kilgitsuk looked one way then another, and decided to saunter over.

It is a fine day to explore the island! He called out to them, trying to elicit some familiar sensation of good humor within himself.