Wheeling Gull Isle A truce with trust

Thresher's mind was full of memories. She rifled through them as she pulled away at the alder branches, and gnawed through thicker ones. She could see the darkness at the base of the tree, and knew she was getting closer to the den, and wondered how much work it would take to dig it out again, if the roots had grown in. Not knowing what she would find, she simply kept to her work, and worked with faithful diligence. 

A voice disrupted her labour, and she pulled back, flicking her tufted ears forward when she saw she was being watched by a young woman, with a pale coat and indigo eyes. She was pretty. Cutting through a thick tangle of bushes and alders likely looked a bit odd, so she offered a somewhat bashful smile. "This is the Mother Tree....A great spruce, that weathers the storms...There used to be a den here, beneath her roots, when I was a child...I wanted to see if it was still there but there is so much new growth in the way," She said, somewhat wistfully. She smiled ruefully. "It may have caved in, also, but...It was such a secure stronghold, if it is still there, it is worth finding." She said. She smiled, and spoke with her earthy, humble tone. "I am Thresher, I am new to...Sweetharbour," She said.