Wheeling Gull Isle and brought to an end their earthly days
Aristos
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All Welcome 
A rainstorm battered the shore of the isle, the sky cracking with a flash and peal of lightning and thunder. The sea was violent, churning and chopping with a vengeance untold. And there he was, lingering where gentle forest met wet sand, snout deep in the undergrowth sussing things out. It wasn't a mindless, silly game he was playing—he searched for tender shoots and herbs to gather, to begin a rudimentary stock of what he could find and what he could store.

The storm was far from a deterrent as he pulled a plant loose from the tangle of overgrowth, the mark of high summer yet to decline. It was a delicate task to pull the plant free; he wanted roots and all, nary a thing broken or left behind left to rot. He had found a suitable location to place them, to tuck them away hopefully out of sight of curious, prying teeth and noses, but they had to be gathered first. His actions were methodical and repetitive, his face blank as he went over a task he had done a thousand times in a time before this and then some before that.

Another crack of thunder overhead, a toss of turning winds; none of it disturbed him.

tagging the active lot for visibility if they'd like to join — @Lokie, @Connor, @Rosencrantz, @Komal, @Daegon, @Rhællaa — and if i missed anyone, you're welcome to join too.
A heart coated in gold
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Nothing much scared Komal these days. But one thing that had stuck with him since birth was his fear of storms. This one was a tempest in his opinion, made worse by the gentle seeming sea that had turned into a stampede of raging bison that repeatedly charged into the cliffs and shores of the isle. His single eye temporarily blinded by each terrifically terrifying flash.

He had run in terror to hide, tucking himself out of all the water in the darkness under his tail, nestled in the corner of a cave. He could feel some water start to seep in though, probably because the tide was starting to come in too. He hoped he didn't have to leave. A clap shook the skies and rolled through the clouds, earning a squeak from him, curling tighter around himself. Oh when would it end.
Aristos
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The storm carried on as he finished up his task, soon clutching a bundle between his jaws gently. It would have been more of a questionable, comical sight to witness had the weather been better, the needlepoint sharpiness of his muzzle hanging firmly onto long, rough stalks and their root ball assortments. But the amusement in it did not cross his mind as he stepped away from his handiwork and onto the sands. Getting his bundle somewhere safe was the only priority, still with no concern for the thrashing of the heavens above.

The fastest way he had found yet took him in long strides across the wet shore, his feet kicking away the rushing waves as they longed to reach further and further. Beyond the treeline he could see where the storm darkened like a bruise, the mainland obscured behind curtails and veils of rain. It hastened him, knowing those dark clouds held more than just rain to douse them all with.

He began past the cave with a careful precision, where the tidepool had long scattered slick, sharp stones. He heard the squeak along with the clap of thunder but thought nothing of it. His focus was steady on where to put his feet, where to avoid stumbling and twisting of tender joints. The sooner he found the path he needed, the better, and he was unaware that someone else could quite possibly lay eyes on him here.
A heart coated in gold
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His single eye caught the movement outside. A darkened shadow of a wolf moving along the shore. His pale gaze followed it, wondering why it was moving outside at this ungodly hour in this thrashing storm.
He decided to follow and seek comfort in whoever passed by. Or perhaps it was the shadow of a wolf long taken by the sea where their soul still roamed the shores, leading others to a similar death. Or saving him.

Komal stood on shaking, stiff limbs and harried himself along, needing the company of someone else. He didn't care anymore that he'd be seen scared. After a few quick strides, he was half alongside the other, head down against the wind and spray. At least is was cooler than the hot sun.
Aristos
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Stones skittered out of from under his feet as he cut through a narrow band of sea water. Eventually the tide pools would be swallowed whole here and he knew if he wanted to make a return trip he would have to take the lengthy path around. It mattered not in the present—he was certain that he had enough to sate the need for today. Tomorrow, perhaps if the weather proved better, he could always gather more.

And when the appearance of another at his hocks turned up, he was almost certain there too that it would have to be tomorrow. The hurried steps of the other almost urged him to power along quickly, but he was not feeling the sort to be rushed. A glare crossed his features as he looked ahead, knowing soon he would be out of the poor cover the cavern mouth offered and back to the full brunt of the whipping elements.

When he reached that point, the sand offered him the breadth he needed to put distance between himself and the wolf. He hadn't so much as looked back beyond a scant, cursory glance and such remained true; with the plants clutched between his jaws, he had little room to speak and much to do. His steps carried him towards the timberline once more, ever headed onward.

Whether or not he had a follower still, he'd deal with later.
A heart coated in gold
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This herbalist looked like he had a plan that Komal did not. Tarot powered on with the one-eyed snowflake in tow, battling through the wind. It was all he could do to keep the man in his sights. Fuck being left alone out here. He didn't seem like the talking type, so didn't try yet. Having someone to follow was enough. 

The path they took was dangerous and slippery. Easy enough in better weather for anyone but in this tempest, you had to be quick and nimble. He prayed to the Lady of the Great Deep to not take his life, not Tarot's. Soon, the treeline seemed to be their destination and he was glad for it, pushing up alongside Tarot now, head low and pitifully scared. He just wanted the calm again.
Aristos
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The fear of the wolf was palpable. He could sense it just as strongly as he could see it in the way he carried himself across the slick stones, through the wet sand. It was a sort of fear that the coywolf did not quite understand, but there were many things in the world he discovered he did not entirely understand. Perhaps they were never meant to be understood.

The forestry welcomed them to work beneath its sprawling boughs and as the sand gave way to soft earth, his pace picked up. The cavern he had squared away for himself was not far off, but he didn't intend to share its location with anyone just yet. Instead he waited until they were inland some distance before letting his pace slow, depositing the bundle he had prepared to the side.

His gaze rounded on the wolf, shrewdly taking him in.

Another one-eyed patron—did they collect them now, too?

"You follow me. Why?" If the words sounded harsh, it was meant to be. Not of the conscious sort; there were far few things that he did on a level that had full awareness. Somewhere it was deigned that the best way to get answers was to be direct, and thus was the only direction he took.
A heart coated in gold
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He wasn't taken aback by the standoffish nature of the other. He was too fearful in the moment of the storm to worry about Tarot too.
He kept a few paces away, looking about warily for someone else who'd receive him with more compassion. Today was not in his favour though. Looks like he was stuck with the coywolf.

"'cause I'm scared of thunderstorms." He admitted quietly, just loud enough over the hammering rain on the ground. He held himself low, tail tucked firmly between his legs. If he was as small as possible the thunder couldn't hurt him. Nor could the dangerous bolts. 
His mouth twitched, looking for a distraction.
"Whatcha collect?"
Aristos
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Scared of the storm?

His gaze ascended to the toil of the storm above them, but only focused on the uneven sway of the tree branches overhead. He had never a reason to be fearful of a storm, though it was easy to be caught up in its urgency to believe otherwise. Though flippant on first glance, it wasn't to suggest that he did not have a healthy respect of the weather—had the storm been far worse at a distance, a certain prickle and tension in the air, then the coywolf would have long removed himself from his task to seek shelter.

"Then you follow the wrong one," he moved on to say, gaze dropping to the one-eyed wolf. "I intend to be in this until it is through." Never mind answering what it was that he collected, he thought that obvious too. A sigh loosened to himself, his doubts that he would so easily shed company temporarily breaking the surface tension of his thoughts.

He gathered the plants again in his mouth, and set off.
A heart coated in gold
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#10
Komal stood, watching after the herbalist.
His heart sank, but a strong, urgent burst from the trees caused his heart to leap back up and scream to hide.
It was only wind, but he couldn't tell himself that.

He moved away at a pace, finding shelter to hide himself once again in his shame.