Wheeling Gull Isle krampusnacht

He slept somewhere amid the Skybowl, a pale body that was dead to the world for a solid four or five hours. He did not dream. Or, if he did, Titmouse could not recall the dream upon waking; it was a sign of his harrowing.

He'd left the shore where he'd seen Maegi and had felt his heart shatter with each step she took away from him — and now that he was on the island, groggy from his sleep and with a sharp withdrawal headache stabbing at his eyes, he wasn't sure what to do. Maegi wasn't here so it could never truly be home. At the same time, Titmouse knew he could not just sit there, he had to do something to earn his keep. So he got to his feet, stretched and popped his tense body, and began to roam the island.