green isn't my colour

Ronan side eyed the seagulls and was quick to work out what the pup had in mind. He was willing enough to be a distraction as he explored the Island, made no move to be quiet or sneaky, gave the pup the opening to sneak ever closer as he minded his own business. He paused briefly to sniff at some short of shrubbery, it looked and smelled like ivy, certainly in how it clung to the terrain, leaching off of the few trees that remained. Was it even ivy? He knew they were hardy and even grew all over his homeland-again, even calling it that felt too generous- so maybe it was something else? Was hard to say.