Wheeling Gull Isle an island, a peninsula

No problem! :D

Onwards, Ruvik swam, his eyes never once leaving the island while the tides tried desperately to drag him off course. Seagulls above cried in their shrill voices, as if urging him to return to shore; it was a fool's journey to carry on! Yet the boy could not hear them over the crashing of the waves swirling about his ears. Swallowing air and sea water alike, his breath came out in ragged gasps as he reached the halfway point, fatigue already beginning to set in.

He almost didn't make it.

Yet against all odds, Ruvik finally felt his paws touch sand once more, and the ocean began to pull him ashore instead of warn him back. Soaking, breathless, and exhausted, the boy slowly dragged himself from the tumultuous sea and towards the shore, only to pause as his eyes fell upon a sandy-coloured figure. She was slight in frame but had a noble air about her, and even above the briny stench of the ocean, she had a strangely pleasant scent. Not that Ruvik would know what it meant. He stood before her, knee-deep in the shallows, looking every bit the washed up serf to her royalty. He bowed his head, both in a sign of respect and in defeat. Claimed. They had gotten here first.

"R-Ruvik ran," he spluttered out, his sides heaving with effort as his lungs screamed for more air. "Have...n-nowhere to go."