Wheeling Gull Isle Yacht rock season.

Towhee found herself staring at the island across choppy waters.

You should be at the copse, supporting Meerkat, an inner voice scolded. Looking out for your grandkids.

That’s why I’m here, she argued aloud.

She wasn’t only thinking of @Swordfish. What had become of @Simeon, @Malakai, @Judah and @Dinah? Was it possible any of them were still out there?

She squinted at the remote beach, which appeared empty. Towhee realized she couldn’t leave here without seeing for herself, though she would either have to wait for the tide to turn or make the swim.

Towhee took a few minutes to collect herself—she didn’t think she’d ever be ready to visit Caracal’s grave, yet she must—then began wading into the surf.