Wheeling Gull Isle moubeda

Heda’s hymn caught his attention too. He heard it wafting his way on the cold sea breeze. He smiled and listened, though he did not attempt to locate her. Instead, Caracal did something he hadn’t done in quite some time: he headed to the edge of the island to patrol the perimeter.

Of course, they weren’t technically a pack, much less his pack, yet Caracal already felt possessive of this place. After roaming for months on end, it was really nice to kick back and enjoy this seaside getaway. There was part of him that never wanted to leave, though he kept waiting for the wanderlust to stir again.

One of the last things he expected to find on the beach was a pup. He wasn’t so young that Caracal immediately felt worried about his welfare. Actually, he saw the awkward, gangly youngster and thought of himself and Killdeer traveling as kids. Although maybe this guy actually lived on the island too.

Hey, lil’ fella, he greeted with a goofy grin. They were more or less the same size, though the stranger still had some baby face. Do you live here too? I’m Caracal, he introduced, thrusting out a paw for a fist bump, handshake, or whatever the boy might have on offer.