Wheeling Gull Isle I couldn't even kill myself the way I wanted to. I had power over nothing.

Strand was patrolling her island, something she had taken to doing frequently since returning here with Padma. A very changed Padma. She was worried about her friend and didn’t know what to do about it. Being sentimental wasn’t really part of Strand’s makeup, so instead of talking to Padma, which would make the most sense to any normal wolf, she just exercised her confusion away. So, yeah. She’d been doing a lot of patrols lately. Mostly this meant she walked around the perimeter of the island once or twice a day, slowly or quickly depending on how she felt. Sometimes she went slowly if she was thinking a lot or if her shoulder was hurting. Sometimes she ran if she wanted to stop thinking entirely. Today she was walking slowly and sweeping her head from side to side to take in the beach.

That was when she saw the black figure on the sand. Seagulls circled overhead. A flashback of her own awakening on this beach went through her mind as quickly as blinking, and before she could think, she was running. Running with a limp, but still running. Were they dead or had they been lucky like her? If they were dead she wasn’t sure what she would do. What could she do but bury the body to prevent the seagulls from eating it? She reached the dark figure and nudged it, praying for a response. Then she sat back in relief as she heard the sighs of breath coming from the wolf. After catching her breath, she leaned over the figure again to check for wounds. She didn’t know all that much about healing, but if he had any cuts or scrapes, she at least knew how to stop the bleeding.