Wheeling Gull Isle You are the bounce in my step, the burst of blood in my chest

Everett was with the children when the howl came rising up over the lavender fields. He didn’t recognize the voice, and he was sure he betrayed his confusion when he turned to @Heda and stared at her for a long second with a tight frown and furrowed brow. Who in these Wilds knew him enough to call him by name?

So he rose to his paws and, seeing as visitors were rare on the island, told @Caracal that if he wished, he could allow his children to watch from a safe distance so they might learn how to carry themselves with other visitors to their shores. Everett knew he hadn’t made any enemies here — except, perhaps, Lestan, but he was certain that whatever he thought of him, Reverie’s husband would never bring him harm.

But the man he met was as unfamiliar as his voice. He looked built for the water — he had even swam the sea! — and was bright as the sand and as speckled as the island rocks. His eyes seemed kind, but Everett remained guarded against him. Reserved — but not unkind. Only questioning.

Hello, he said, and with a careful tilt of his head, asked, do I know you?

He was almost certain he did not.