A sweep. Another one. Then another.

He absent-mindedly soars high above with eyes laced to the island below. There are more reaching their safe borders, clambering across the sand in desperate attempt to flee the plague. After having addressed them, Tiphon took flight to continue patrolling. There is no one unwelcomed, not yet. He wants to harbor families and loved ones, to shield them as much as he can despite the looming challenges ahead. Perhaps it was foolish to lay claim on a sanctuary without having truly grasped the magnitude of the situation, but nonetheless, there is no turning back now.

There will be diseased and healthy harbored here. They will build and help each other to their highest capabilities.

He will sacrifice his own wellbeing to do so, if necessary.

With a gust of cold air combing through his forelock, Tiphon resigns his aimless flight and descends. The inner lining of mountains provides a change of scenery from the ebbing tides and shoreline. Truly, he should be there to greet anyone that washes ashore, but his fascination lures him to the inner island where the shadows reach from underneath the small summit. A grin quivers and nearly reaches the edges of his mouth, but flickers away too quickly for it to stay. He needs to nurture the ones already here, but there are others out there, beyond the island, suffering.

Torn, Tiphon freezes in place, mulling over his options.