Wheeling Gull Isle Damselfish

He didn’t think it had worked. Lestan wallowed, shutting his eyes and burying his face. Swordfish was not capable of offering more. He did not know what else could be done. They had to get to the island. The island, the forest, the river. Then to the creek, he’d repeated these waypoints in his mind several times since meeting the withered father at his side. 

When Lestan conceded, the young man found relief in his heart. Swordfish looked out at the island, pleading silently that they would find the girl and this father would be reunited with his child. Not all things needed to end in disaster. 

Let’s go, he agreed in his sullen voice. Across the bridge to the other side.