Only one pirate lass in the small group seemed to share his suspicions about the vision’s origins. Another she-wolf shoved her way between Sarge and the lass, her attitude bright and cheery as she started to blab.

Letting out a low growl, he snapped, Hush, girl. Did no one ever teach you the value of silence? His tone was low and edged with irritation, golden eyes narrowing as they locked onto her green-gray ones.

Drawing a slow breath, he forced himself to steady before muttering, Sarge. He wasn’t eager to share personal details, but it seemed they were all bound to dig into the vision they had just witnessed.

How are we even supposed to reach a moving island? he asked, frustration seeping into his voice. It’s not like we can fly. And why the hell is it moving in the first place? He ground his teeth, glaring in the direction where the island was said to be. The thought of finding that standing tree and the flowers that thrived around it made him curse under his breath.

We should move before it decides to move again, he said, not bothering to wait for the others’ response before heading down the path that would take them closer to it. Better to act quickly than sit around contemplating his own likely demise.