Wheeling Gull Isle hell hath no fury

He wasn’t angry, at first.

He cried himself to sleep in the lavenders and woke sometime later feeling absolutely beastly. Everything hurt: his head, his heart, his soul. @Heda’s and @Dinah’s horrible words came back to him in an awful rush that made him sick among the flowers. As soon as he finished spitting bile and rinsed his mouth with some seawater, he went to look for them to make amends.

He climbed to the top of the hills, shielding his eyes against the glare. His head pounded. His chest ached. As much as Caracal didn’t think he’d deserved the terrible things said to him, he wanted to apologize. He had been selfish and thoughtless. They meant too much to him. He would do whatever it took to make it up to them and make things right.

But neither one of them was there. Caracal descended and walked the island’s perimeter, looking for them with increasing worry. He shouted their names. He paused near the submerged land bridge, eyes squinting at the empty coastline across the water. His stomach churned and he nearly vomited again.

The things his wife and daughter had said to him began playing on loop in his head as he continued circling the island. Had they really abandoned him over this? Had all the others gone with them too? Caracal shook his head, trying to cast off these hideous, intrusive thoughts.

That couldn’t be right! It made no sense! But where were they…?