You have goat to be kiddin me

Charlton had noticed the island one day on the beach and, the more he patrolled upon the sands, the more he found his gaze drawn toward it. The island seemed often shrouded in mist, sometimes making him wonder if it was real at all. Silveris was the one to confirm that it was, and after alerting his companions of his plans to make it there, he would plan for the trip. Silveris would come with him, eyes from above to find any small sand bars and such that the yearling could take a break on as he made his way to the isle. It wasn’t the best idea to make the trip in winter, even for the yearling that had known the northern temperatures for much of his life. The smell of salt and the chill of the water invaded his senses. It took a little longer than he had thought to get there, but in time he made for the rocky shore.

It would be a climb and then a descent to get to the heart of the island. Silveris had landed upon her companion’s back as Charlie hauled himself out of the water and shook himself off. The stones were slick, but being mindful of that helped him with testing his placement. Not the easiest task for someone as large as he was. He was left panting and dripping after he did so, gaze turning up to the cliffs as his ears perked forward. There was a sort of path up this way. Well “path” in the sense that some of the rocks weren’t as high as others and would make easier climbing points. But before he could begin climbing Silveris gave an alert call and took to the air again.

Charlie’s head would turn and catch sight of the woman approaching him. She wasn’t familiar, so she definitely wasn’t from the Armada. But Silveris’ was what had him a bit more guarded. The bird didn’t seem to like the fact that he was on the island, away from the aid of the pack. It was one thing to be in another land where the pack could reach him, but it would take time for Silveris to get aid. He didn’t want to think he might be in danger, but Charlie also knew to take a healthy bit of caution with every greeting. He would watch her approach, waiting, attempting to read her body language before calling out.

“The incline looks doable down this way. Are you heading toward the center, miss?” The waves crashed behind him. Would she even hear him over the water? Or would his words be a garbled mess in their wake?

"Speech," 'Thought.'