Wheeling Gull Isle aristotle and dante discover the secrets of the universe

In the chaos of all that has happened there has been little time for proper introductions, Axolotl thinks. They went straight from the storm to trying to get back on their feet as individuals and the natural formation as a group. The agouti woman answers his inquiry, her voice a softness against the sounds that are background noise upon the Isle that his ears cup forth atop his skull to pick up. There is the distinct sound of approaching footfalls and the pair is joined by another: a male and still a stranger to the leviathan as glacial blue eyes fell from the agouti woman to the other male. “Axolotl,” The leviathan speaks his name given by his mother — one name of the few he bears — and offers a polite dip of his head. “my name is Axolotl Corten.” The Corten name has blessed him numerous times in his life and it continues to give nourishment to the familial bond he shares with the inkblot called Coelacanth even if she is not the docile sheepdog he remembers presently. “There hasn’t been much time for introductions in the midst of all the chaos.” They have time now and Axolotl seeks to bridge the gap between strangers (and at the very least) acquaintances and further: future packmates.