Wheeling Gull Isle hunting

Some days were bad. For long stretches of time, he felt like he had not even enough energy to pick himself up and perform the daily tasks needed to keep himself alive, and so he would just stay glued to the ground by some imaginary force that stole any amount of steam he could even think to try and build. The last few days had played out much like that. He had remained between a state of drowsy awareness and deep sleep inside the ocean cave he had been lucky to stumble into; not that he had cared whether or not someone might find him in there and snuff out his life. Secretly, deep, deep down, he thought he might have wished for it--the same coward as always. 

But today, he had awoken with renewed energy, well as much as was normal for Zodiac, which was never a whole lot, but at least he could raise himself to his feet and walk from the cave. He meandered down the coast, searching for something to take his mind off things when he saw the island in the distance and the land bridge that connected it to the main land. With nothing else to do with his day, he followed the bridge and soon found himself in a place he had never been before. He explored the beach for a while, wondering if anyone else lived here. A cry of pain caught his attention, and he whipped his head in the direction of the sound. He could see the source in the distance, and he trotted over to see what was up. A crab running from the scene scurried right past him, and he jumped a little to the side to avoid it. After a few more steps, he stopped a short distance from the woman. Yeah, that shit hurts, he said. He knew exactly what that felt like, unfortunately.