Wheeling Gull Isle blue flower

hope you don't mind me crashing

Finally, Manea made it to the sandbar. She'd been held up by interactions here and there, but she was here, now. She spotted it from a short distance, a break in the waves, a strip leading to the place that ruled her heart.

Heda. And perhaps. . .

No. She didn't allow herself to hope too much. It might be empty. She might be alone, there.

Well, or not.

A multi-colored blur sailed across the sandbar, running to the island. Her ears pricked, eyes narrowed, and then she followed, splashing through the shallows, stretching out to her full length.

By the time the man reached the shore of the island, Manea was hot on his heels, without even a call to warn him she was right behind.