Wheeling Gull Isle your own world

Powerplaying Stockholm!

The call had been for Stockholm, but it was Coelacanth who went sprinting for the Strand. “Faeryn!” she cried, the breathlike whisper punctuated with an exuberant clip of her slim jaws. There was no accusation or condemnation in the former Aralez’s expression, just deep, unfettered joy and a significant amount of relief. Oh, at last, at last! If Titmouse and Faeryn had found their way back to Wheeling Gull Isle, surely there was hope to be had for little Thresher — and the pack’s resident wildling, `Io.

The Gampr was quick on his wife’s heels as he too ran to greet their dear friend, followed shortly thereafter by Hemlock and Droman. “Welcome home,” they chorused in staggered procession, beating Seelie to the punch. Despite her joy at seeing the blue wolfess again, the Groenendael couldn’t think of a single thing to say. She was so relieved to see Faeryn again that she couldn’t even ask whether this was just a visit or whether the Renoda woman intended to stay. She merely spun rings around her packsister, nibbling and licking at her cheeks. Stockholm, scarcely able to approach while his mate had the zoomies, offered a truly joyful grin despite the lines of stress on his face. “I think what she’s trying to say is, ‘Peace be,’” he quipped knowingly.