welcome 2 da rock / axel&gander

Gander Ellesmere

For the better part of a decade, Gander had traveled out to the eastern side of the island on patrol.

When he’d been seven his older brother would come with him, though he would remark to Gander that seven was well old enough to do it on his own (ye carray a knife ‘n find a heart, ‘s old ‘nough to be ‘lone). He appreciated the solitary activity much more in the winter when the air was crisp rolling in from the shore. The chill kept his mind from wandering and his eyes steady.

It was not common for the island to get visitors. Best known as ‘the Rock’ for those who bothered to read the capitol provisioned maps, they were far enough out from shore that without business there wouldn’t have been a reason to set foot on these sands. That and the hospitality from the islanders left something to be desired. A hundred years since the war and they still clung to their autonomy, especially now with Snow gone.

Gander spotted Axel from two hundred yards out. The boat was enough a giveaway, but the boy walked with the gait of someone who never knew what direction he was headed.

He knelt at the top of the dunes and drew the knife from his boot. It was cold and heavy in his hand. Gander never had a reason to use it, though no one had ever given him a reason.

“Where y’longs to?” Gander spoke through the dried bush and stood. “Easy like.”