Wheeling Gull Isle xiiii. but tonight's just beginning

The wolves noticed him—a group of males, ranging among a myriad of colours and muscle, led by a diminutive she-wolf with a singular eye. Akavir remained still, an ear flickering forward as he took in their words—friendly enough, but firm with their desire to claim the isle.

They asked his advice, and the Mayfair realized they believed him to be familiar with the island—something he definitely was not.

“Ah,” he began, his bright eyes drifting between them all, a loose smile curling at the corner of his jaws as he attempted to appear friendly. He wasn’t keen on eliciting too much attention from a group of wolves looking to claim land he had simply stumbled upon. “I’m Akavir. I can’t help much though, I’m afraid. I was just exploring and haven’t been here very long.”

He paused, his tail giving an idle swish as he looked to them all. “I was actually just on my way out, now that the sandbar is back.”