Wheeling Gull Isle the story is in the soil, keep your ear to the ground

Serein had drifted away from the other three for a prolonged moment, her expression pained as she bit back her own wave of disappointment, but she offered a hearty chuff of agreement at her twin’s suggestion. “Sounds good to me,” she said easily, still mulling over her own feelings on the matter. She fell naturally into step with them, briefly stretching her muzzle to rub her cheek against Sirimiri’s shoulder. The pull of the sea was enticing, but so was the cave Komodo suggested. She — and most of her immediate family — trusted the Earthstalker completely, so she had no qualms about following his lead.

In the wake of his musings, Brontide was quiet — and it was some time before he said anything at all. This wasn’t totally out of character for Bron, who valued solitude and silence as much as song and showmanship, and neither was his seemingly tangential interjection: “Hunter’s Moon is soon, if Kirynnae guessed right,” he commented. “All the dogs were howling about it, last few settlements we passed through.” Brontide himself had no gift for reading the skies; if it rained, it rained, and he didn’t waste effort in trying to predict it.

Lost in thought as he was, it was a few seconds before he closed the loop: “Mom’s usually right about her hunches, so if we follow the sea lions, we’ll find them,” he pointed out, typically untroubled.