Wheeling Gull Isle an island, a peninsula

I don't mind if this counts as technically trespassing ;D

He had run, run, run as fast as he could, away from the terrifying cougar and the priest she had devoured without a second thought. He had been so certain that either he or Omerus were to be next in line for sacrifice. It didn't occur to him that Augustus himself was just as likely a candidate as his followers. Or was it perhaps The Savior had grown tired of him? Had she been displeased with the current offerings? Had they not been enough? Whatever the case, Ruvik fled the grisly scene with nary a look back, survival instincts overriding his devotion to the Savior.

Oh, how mad she would be! There was no doubt in his mind that she would come after him. Death incarnate would find him in the end, but he had to try. The forests wouldn't do, nor the plains. The mountains, valleys, rivers, calderas; they were all too exposed. He needed something between him and the mainland.

It was during one last expedition for a hideout that Ruvik spied the perfect place — an island not too far off the shore. For the first time in weeks, he felt a glimmer of hope alight in his chest. A chance! He raced into the churning sea with feverish delight, hopping over the waves before diving right in, ignoring the chill of the waters as it soaked through his thin coat and into his bones. The ocean was rough and the strong winds buffeted his form, but he carried doggedly on towards the island, towards safety. A home.