Wheeling Gull Isle Damselfish

Swordfish watched as Lestan spat remains of his rabbit into the surf. The bear-hunter’s stomach churned in discomfort but the sea took the bile out in a single sweeping motion.

The man rambled, saying he wasn’t ready. He insisted it was not because he felt ill, but that he was scared. The yearling regarded him with a stern expression on his young face. He did not think that he had ever met a creature quite so dismal. It had been Lestan who had formed their plan - island, forest, river. Then they were to cross to the mountains and land at Swiftcurrent.

Yer not gonna be any less scared sittin’ here.

Swordfish shook the sand from his coat and gazed out at their destination, skeptical that any wolf would be there.

So yer scared. So what? Do it anyway. Do it scared.