Wheeling Gull Isle Yacht rock season.

I made some mild assumptions; just let me know if I need to change anything. :)

The wind pushed at the water, which in turn pushed Towhee off course. Instead of landing on the beach directly across from the mainland, she just managed to clip the island’s southeast corner. She heaved herself out of the water, legs a little shaky from the effort, though she resisted the impulse to sink down to the sand to rest. Instead, she held still, shaking saltwater from her coat and peering around with stinging orange eyes.

She jumped a little when she saw a figure clambering out of the tide a few meters off to her left. Towhee didn’t recognize him at first, her soaking body stiffening as she swiveled to face him. She wiped dripping seawater out of her eyes and then blinked at the yearling, her breath catching in her throat when she realized she knew that face, namely those eyes.

Simeon, Towhee said, taking a step toward him.