Wheeling Gull Isle solitude

No, that was someone named Blueberry. Caracal paused, wondering why that name was familiar, and by the time he realized Heda’s answer didn’t add up, she was sweeping down the hillside. He jumped to his feet and nearly stumbled in his attempt to catch up, thanks to his shitty depth perception.

Sure, he distractedly answered her question as he put himself to rights. Just no geese, okay? Caracal joked. Which reminds me, I kinda dropped the whole medic gig. I don’t really know why, I just stopped caring, he shared half-truthfully, well aware that the situation with his eye had shaken his belief in medicine.

He stumbled again. Slopes were still a bit tricky for him, even though he’d otherwise adapted. Caracal grunted and sorted himself once more, feeling a little idiotic but shooting his companion a bemused grin.

Oh yeah, and I suck at hunting even worse than I did before, he told her cheerfully.

caracal stumbled once, and twice. heda felt apologetic for how fast she had been going and returned at once to his side. "no geese."
he went on to say he had stopped being a medic and thrown off the expectations of hunting as well. heda glanced in amusement at him. "well, here you can be anything you'd like." and now she wondered what that would be.
the ground here was loamy, soft. she flexed her toes against it and sighed with a little pleasure. "i really do love it in this place."

I can see why, Caracal replied breezily, despite a feeling of consternation over her immediately previous words.

Was she trying to get him to stay? He’d mentioned he wanted to hang out for a few days, though Noncommittal was Caracal’s middle name. He knew better than to pledge to a pack without thinking, no matter his connections there. In fact, he still doubted he would ever be suited to pack life.

But he had to admit—especially when he paused and took in the ocean view from this downward angle—nothing could top this place, could it? He really understood why Heda had not only chosen it but stayed here when things evidently fell apart.

Hey, I can’t promise I’ll stick around forever, he found himself saying, but I can hang out for a while, if you want? I mean, this place is incredible but I didn’t realize how nice it would be to see a familiar face too.

caracal had always brought an humour and an honesty to all of their interactions, and heda appreciated it about him. "settle in. look around. meet blueberry. and find psalm. he's our biggest non-wolf resident," she said mysteriously. "stay as long as you want, really. i'm just really happy to have you here."
and she meant it.
"come on. i'll take you back around to bartholomew. he'll show you where to rest." surely after all the swimming and talking he wanted that too.

Psalm? he repeated in his head, wondering if she was Bartholomew’s lady friend, at least until he registered Heda’s next few words. He cocked his head. Now there were two mysterious figures skulking around the island, one apparently a different species altogether.

Hum’kay, he agreed with an easy grin. I appreciate the hospitality, like, it’s really top-notch service, he quipped, giving her a teasing look even though the sentiment was totally genuine.

As he strode along, he tried to place that name again. Had he met a Blueberry before? He couldn’t remember. Well, maybe once he saw her, it would jog his memory. He set that thought aside.

I’ll try not to be a total freeloader, by the way. I’m a deadbeat doctor and a shit hunter but surely I have some skill, buried deep down inside of me, right?

"when i came here i was just an angry girl who broke my own wrist leaping off things," heda joked back. "i think it's something about the air here. it helps you focus."
something about bartholomew too.
she wouldn't say that, though. "i like to be helpful. it's how you serve god, too, through how you treat others." a press of her eyes and then she was slowing. "before we go, i want to show you one more thing. the lavender fields."

Maybe it’s the salt? he bantered back. It pickles you, helping you achieve your final form.

It didn’t happen often but sometimes, Caracal felt clever. Now was one of those times and he relished it for a moment.

Heda’s talk of a god distracted him. He had been raised to think of stuff like that as malarkey, though Caracal was an open-minded guy. Even if he didn’t necessarily believe in these things, he could totally respect that they had meaning to his friend. And even if he never bought into it, he found himself wanting to learn more, if only because it seemed such an intrinsic part of Heda’s life now.

Sure, he said when invited to check out these fields. Tell me about this god dude? he added lightly.

heda gave him a surprised look that quickly became a deep pleasure. "god has stories and plans for us. but mostly what you should know is that he talks when you're alone. and not in words. when you look at the ocean, for instance, and you feel that — odd feeling in your whole body, looking out at how vast it is: that's him."
he was in love and in admiration of their world.
the lavender beds were fallow now, save for a few stems of mummified purple. but still the entire area held the heavy scent even with the snow.

He didn’t know quite to say to that other than an inarticulate, Huh, that did not indicate properly the consideration he gave Heda’s words.

They arrived at the edge of the field, which he’d expected to be in full bloom but of course wasn’t. The last vestiges of cleverness drifted away on the sea breeze as he wandered the swath of faded purple, sprawling from the foot of the hill to the water’s edge.

I can’t remember where exactly I heard this, Caracal mused to Heda as he wandered back closer to her, but aren’t gods—sorry, God—associated with heaven? I’m not an expert or anything but this place feels a bit like that: heaven, I mean.

He halted in a patch of dried flowers, soaking in the stale smell. His tail flicked as he scanned with his right eye, which eventually rested on Heda again. He felt a strange flicker and his brain helpfully jested, God, is that you? But really it was just a spark of joy.

Do you ever think about Atau… you know? Caracal wondered suddenly, as ever unable to pronounce the pack’s name.

heda allowed herself to recline. "yes. god is about heaven. and i agree that sweetharbor has to be part of that. it's always been beautiful. and it's always been peaceful." wasn't that what heaven held?
she crossed her paws, shook her head. "not about the mountain, no. but about the people. lane. veteran. issorartuyok. tuuluuwaq." she lifted her face into a welcome if icy breeze. "i wonder where they are. who they became." she eyed caracal. "do you?"

Each name she spoke made his heart pang a little. Were they all still at the summit? The way Heda talked, it didn’t sound like she thought they still lived there. He bit at his lip, ducking his head as he thought of Lane in particular. Man, he’d really let her down, hadn’t he?

Maybe sticking around here a bit—and hanging out with Bartholomew—will help me resolve some of this old guilt? he said in way of answer, smiling lopsidedly. But yeah, I think about them but at the same time, I probably won’t go back to check or anything, Caracal admitted.

But there were wolves he wanted to visit, especially if he would be in the area for the foreseeable future. That was a thought for future Caracal, though. Right now, he wanted to focus on the present moment and enjoy what remained of the tour with Heda before she delivered him back to Bartholomew.

heda shook her head a little. "i won't either." she had no interest in reopening old wounds. she had healed them. she had moved on. she sighed a bit and then her expression filled with light again. "i think if any place could make anyone feel better, it's here. and i'm not trying to convince you, caracal," she joked a bit. "but i really do mean it."
the girl meandered back up between the sparse pines dotting the base of the greenhills. "he's down there," she said of a slender shadow moving along the edge of the great boulders. heda looked at caracal. "if you can't sleep, i'm usually all the way at the very top," she said of the highest island ridges.

She pointed out the dark silhouette in the distance before mentioning where he could find her. Caracal tipped his head to glance upward, then looked back to Heda’s face and nodded in ackowledgement.

Sounds good, he said as he moved in to bump her cheek. I’ll see you later.

Caracal bit back the “wifey” that nearly sprang off his tongue, then stepped back. He flashed her a grin, then turned and made his way toward the two great boulders where Bartholomew waited, seagulls circling noisily overhead.