Wheeling Gull Isle And We'll Go A-Waltzing Matilda No More

@Strand perhaps?  ;) 

He had left it behind for a little while, following in Moorhen's wandering tracks and hoping somewhere deep down in his soul that despite the unexpected and hasty departure of Seelie and her family the others might remain. It had been a silly dream, though, and he found himself facing that fact head-on as he stood at the head of the landbridge and wistfully sampled the wind. His ears perked and his brow furrowed deeply however, as he discovered that while there was no sign of his former packmates there was a distinct scent of strangers. It was a little difficult to disentangle just how many or how long they might have been here, but Driftwood was left wondering if perhaps Undersea had relinquished its claim just a little too soon, and if perhaps several castaways had found themselves unexpectedly washed up on Wheeling Gull's shores right after the pack that might have assisted and supported them had drifted away one by one.

Or else a couple of darker possibilities crossed his mind: he still remembered Aditya's incursion, after all. And was there perhaps a small possibility that Coelacanth might have been lured away deliberately...? Driftwood's normally open and smiling face was pensive and concerned as he moved across the connecting spit of sand with lowered head outthrust and slowly trotting paws skimming the sands they matched in color. His eyes darted to and fro, uneasily scanning the familiar and yet now-foreign landscape; it no longer smelled quite right, and the presence of unknown wolves there left him unsettled and, he had to admit, a little upset. He straightened and loosened up just a little when he finally caught a glimpse of one unknown canine from behind as they stood there on his beach—or, er, what had once been his beach. Undersea's not here, he blurted aloud, and then stopped in his tracks, paws uneasily akimbo and shifting a little as if unable to find a comfortable spot to stand. ...Not quite the introduction he'd intended, but then again he wasn't quite sure what he really intended here. At least this stranger didn't seem to be pulling a full-on Aditya though from what he could tell? Driftwood supposed that ought to be at least somewhat reassuring to him.

Hope you don’t mind if I jump in.

Once again someone had snuck up on her. Giving a slight jump at the words that drew her from her deep contemplation. Anger rumbled in the usually gentile girl, and she snapped around at the man. “Really? I didn’t notice.” Who did he think she was, to just waltz right on past scent marking and make herself at home within pack lands? Sarcasm dripped from her snappy words. Obviously, this place had been deserted, although it was recent. She had yet to encounter any whom still called this place home, but she knew some still lingered.

A distinctly familiar scent had permeated the air just after meeting Strand, a scent she honestly had never expected to find again. Her brother, although it had been many months since she had seen him. They had been born on the same day in the same den, and there was no forgetting a litter mate who you had been so fond of. But she had run away, abandoning not only her damaged pack but also her siblings. She had no intention of facing Radcliffe anytime soon.

“What do you want?” She asked gruffly, she had been trying to decide what to do, and he had rudely interrupted her thought process.

Strand had been farther down the beach when the unfamiliar male showed up and bothered Padma. She was able to see her friend’s silhouette as she (Strand) meandered along the shallows. She was unaware of Padma’s internal conflict and so did not offer any advice to her friend. They’d wandered away from each other while walking the beach and this was fine with her. They didn’t need to be near each other all the time, just near enough to know each other was there. But when Strand looked up and saw two figures along the beach, she immediately began to march back towards Padma. You could never be sure if strangers were good or bad and she wouldn’t risk her friend being over there by herself with a potentially dangerous wolf.

She wished she could run, but her shoulder, though mostly healed by now, had seemingly not healed correctly and she was left with a limp that wouldn’t go away. Instead, she angrily speed-walked over as quickly as she could, letting out a low bark to tell the both of them that she was there. She came in on the tail end of a conversation. ‘What do you want?’ Padma asked the stranger, and she didn’t seem happy to see the male.

“Yeah,” Strand agreed, coming to stand near her friend. “And who are you?”

Quite all right by me—thanks for joining!  ;) 

The strange bitch jumped and spun toward him, and Driftwood jumped in turn. He folded his ears back and his legs down on themselves a little; he was seriously beginning to doubt the wisdom of his decision to visit his old home. Obviously no one he knew was here anyway... He did wonder with a pang though whether Moorhen's old woodpile was still intact. Or the den he had helped to dig, or any of the caches he had stored... how much had these intruders already desecrated anyway? He looked at the girl with confused and concerned golden eyes, his paws continuing to restlessly shift beneath him. Uh, I, uh—sorry, I just—

Then it was quite suddenly his turn to be snuck up on. At a low barking noise from behind him Driftwood leapt up in the air and pirouetted, coming down in a wild-eyed crouch with the fur along his spine standing on end in alarm—he resembled nothing so much as a scalded cat, one who seemed afraid that this second wolf might have brought him a freshly boiling tea kettle. I, uh, that's, I... I-I'm Driftwood, he finally managed to get out. I live here—er, I used to live here, I mean, and I just... wondered if perhaps you ladies might need any help, he finally petered out lamely with some fresh foot-scuffling to accompany the words.

Perhaps he really ought not feel so embarrassed and wrong-footed; after all, not having taken note of the fresh markings Padma had tried to leave obviously within the path of any passers-by, so far as Driftwood knew he had as much right to be here as either of these strangers. More, arguably, if you asked him; but it was a good thing that despite whatever begrudging resentments might be smoldering deep within he hadn't really intended to come marching in and boldly reclaim these lands from the others who may have washed up here since him, because he was making a piss-poor show of it if so. Undersea had always tried to be accommodating to those who found their way to the island, though, and Driftwood reasoned to himself (though he was unable to quite feel it in his bones entirely true) that it oughtn't make any newcomers to Wheeling Gull any less welcome if drifters continued to find themselves cast up on the island's shores now that the pack that had lived there had gone their separate ways. H-h-how long have you been here? he asked of the unfamiliar girls as he crouched there uncertainly, his worried eyes darting from one figure to another and his tail held in a rigid slight curve down between his hocks. Not the most intimidating of interrogations, obviously, but it was a start at least. He was rather desperate to know what had happened to his old haunts, and wished to at least catch a glimpse or hear some reassuring more-recent description, but found himself very uncertain he would even get that far.

Raising a brow at the man, and glad to have Strand alongside her Padma simply nodded, accepting the man’s words. “I’m Padma, that’s Strand. We live here now.” Just to make things clearer to the man, she didn’t want any confusion. “We’ve been here for a while now. You used to belong to the pack here?”

She was curious to the scent of her brother that she had found weakly throughout the island. But she held her tongue, not sure what to do with any information that might be offered. “We know how to take care of ourselves…” She looked to Strand to see if she had anything else to say, before realizing that might have been rude. “But I’m sure there could be something found to do, if you really want to help.” Padma looked away, averting her eyes. Strand was a much better authority figure than herself.

wow i'm so sorry this took for literally ever, Bryndel! :(

Strangely for Strand, she actually kind of felt bad for the male, who seemed so uncomfortable by the both of them and so eager to please. She made an effort to relax her body, moving her tail down into a neutral position instead of having it lay across her back authoritatively. Padma spoke before her and she let her friend say her piece, waiting for the pup to finish before speaking. She was feeling generous today, for some reason. “We’ve met a couple others from the previous island pack,” she said. “All are welcome here as long as they know that me and Padma are the ones in charge.” Mostly me. “You can do whatever you think might be helpful, as long as you’re not just taking our food and not refilling the caches when you do.” She gave a small nod to add strength to her words. At a loss for what else to say, she asked, “What skills do you have?”

Pfft, oh no worries—I've been pretty darn slow myself  >.<  *shakes fist at RL*

We live here now. The words came crashing down upon him like a ton of bricks. Maybe it should have been an obvious conclusion to him, in truth, but—well, it wasn't. Oh... I, uh... that's nice? he managed. Y-y-yeah, I used to live here. Whoops, hadn't he already said that? With Undersea, I mean. He was not making a terribly impressive show of himself here, was he. But hey, at least neither of the women seemed inclined to leap upon him and rend his flesh from his bones in punishment for his presumptuousness or awkwardness or anything, at least not yet. 

The higher-ranking female that the other—Padma?—kept looking to seemed to be relaxing at least a little, to stand there more neutrally or maybe even welcomingly. Nervous Driftwood really wasn't sure which of the two was intended by, uh, Strand (or had it been "Straw" or something? Shoot). Or possibly some other, more subtle meaning that was escaping him entirely. Nonetheless, he unconsciously inched a little closer to her, feeling like the combination of her authority and her deliberately-less-hostile mien was a safer bet at the moment. Okay, he said to her quite meekly, and then was thrown for another loop. Skills? His completely unhelpful brain froze up and refused to offer any suggestions beyond the most obvious—maximally awkward small talk? Foot-in-mouth syndrome when meeting strangers from other packs? The unstoppable ability to vex and annoy any female in his presence? Yes, surely all these things he was so ably demonstrating were exactly what Straw wanted to see and hear about from him, here. I mean, I, uh... He stopped himself before he stammered too much more, and tried again. But I used to live here, and could help show you around? was all that he managed. Although... if you've been here awhile... maybe you've already found everything. The woodpile! The dens! The caches—was any of it safe from these wild interlopers?! Driftwood drooped further and gazed on the strange girls with increasing misery. And even if they had gleefully shredded and stomped all over his former possessions and memories, what really could he actually do about any of it, after all? And hadn't Straw made it plain enough—those were their caches now, to do with as they saw fit? Driftwood felt a pang, and thought again of Moorhen—and wondered if she had managed to recover any of her own most-prized property before these two had showed up.