Wheeling Gull Isle Still you give yourself away

Head bowed, his eyes remained open, surveying the coastline, remembering the sound of laughter in early days. Dad had watched them from up here. Mom, Everett, John. And each had sought to guide him, to teach him the right way.

The Isle had been his sanctuary and his family, his security.

You give and take away.

You give and take away.

Show me your ways, Lord, a whisper, a breath, teach me your paths.

Too often, he'd followed his own, or trailed after Dinah or mom or Kai. Saviours, in his eyes. The benchmark of whether or not he was doing okay.

They always pulled in different ways. That's what had gotten them separated to begin with, wasn't it?

He didn't linger long on those days anymore. Just long enough to wonder where he had set his own eyes through them all.

Guide me in your truth and teach me, he was ready to listen now, for you are God my Savior,

He recalled water, the splash of waves, the excited chatter of Dinah when she spoke of her baptism, the sure look of Kai.

He had not been ready then.

Simeon closed his eyes.

and my hope is in you, the breeze played along his wild fur, all day long.

Silence. And then, a voice.

Simeon blinked. John stood beside him, quiet and still, even in his searching. When had he come here? Bright eyes stung with a deep stirring in his heart at the look in John's own. 

John, he said, and his tongue felt heavy. It had been so long - ! I - I'm fine. I'm good. I'm doing okay. He glanced away, ears askew. I don't know. I... thought it would be easy, once everyone came back together, but, he paused, gazing over the land, nothing's the same anymore.