The first event to come my way after boarding the boat was being assigned to a bedroom. The room number and my keycard had been provided for me once I was prompted to explain which island I would be stopping by from a worker waiting inside, to which they explained that I would be on the boat for two nights, since my island would be the first stop. As the animals who had boarded before me began to disappear into their rooms, I made my way through tall, narrow hallways to find the room with the number I had been assigned to.

The bedroom was a very confined room, considering the total of animals staying aboard overnight, leaving me about six feet of walking space between a tiny bed on the right and a shelf set in the wall on the left with a round window at the end. I inched my way into the room and plopped down into a seat on the bed, tugging my backpack from my shoulders and dropping it heavily to the floor by my feet. I could tell that I was going to be in here for a while, so the best thing for me to do now was get settled.

I dragged my backpack over to the base of the bed, carefully positioning it to rest against the side before forcing out a heavy sigh and resting my elbows on my knees to catch my breath. It felt like the morning had already lasted a lifetime, not to mention the fact that it wasn't even close to being half over. It seemed like years since I had been sitting at the table with my family eating our last meal together for an uncertain amount of time. I could still picture them in my mind standing in the grass outside, patiently waiting for the boat to sail out of sight and take me away.

Could I still see them? I leaned forward to peer out of the round window next to the headboard of my bed, searching for the land where my family could have been standing, but all I could see was the calm, undisturbed water surrounding the boat that sparkled under the morning sun. I had just completely lost sight of everything I had ever known, yet for some reason, I couldn't say that I was strictly afraid.

Maybe it was because I was still slow to process the entire situation to be real. A little flutter of nervousness still lingered in my stomach, but at the same time, it felt like my eyes had been opened to the light. I was finally stepping into the future that I had always dreamed of and the immense possibilities that it held left almost no room for fear. I would just have to see what experiences would come my way and learn how to survive through them to find the best version of myself. All I had to do was be ready for it.

The silence of my solitude was already starting to feel strange and unnatural. I wasn't used to taking a trip by boat all by myself before. On the few boat trips I had been on when I was younger, I had never been without Digby and my parents. I couldn't help but wonder how they felt about this situation that I had somehow managed to get myself into. Life was definitely going to change for all three of them, and I could only wish that I could be there to see it. If only I could find a way to share my adventures with them and bring them along on my journey, even if they couldn't join me in person.

The number. Shortly before I left the house earlier this morning, I had tucked the slip of paper with Digby's work phone number into my pocket with my ticket, promising Digby that I would call him as often as I could. With the rush I had been in to withdraw my ticket to present it, I could only pray that the number hadn't fallen out with it. I scrambled to sift through the pocket of my pink jacket, desperately searching for the slim sheet of paper, before I managed to grab hold of it and withdraw it from the pocket. Everything was fine.

I pushed out a sigh of relief, shifting in my seat to lay down on the bed and dropping the slip of paper carelessly onto my belly. It was definitely going to be a few days before I would have the chance to use the number, maybe even longer, depending on the housing situation I would soon find myself in once the boat reached land again. Surely he would be eager to hear of the stories I would be able to tell when I finally had the chance to speak with him again. It would be like how it had always been for us, even with the distance that would soon grow between us.

For the next few following minutes, I let my imagination wander as I gazed up at the plain ceiling hanging over me at only about arm's length. As the seconds subtly slipped by, I found that I couldn't feel as nervous as I had when I had first entered the boat, but I couldn't prevent a faint stir of sadness in my gut. The faces of my family were already fading from my thoughts, so close and yet so far away. When I paused to consider it, only then could I realize how alone and vulnerable I had become.

A low horn rumbled through the boat, faintly vibrating the bed beneath me and tearing my focus away from my straying thoughts as I raised my head from my pillow. With a jolt, the boat slowly wobbled into movement to set off across the water, sending a notable heave to my stomach as I climbed to a seated position on the bed, tossing my feet back onto the floor. Immediately, I could already tell that this was not a good sign.

I had only traveled by boat a few times in my life, but each time I did, I always found myself a bit seasick within the first couple hours of the trip. Even now, I could still remember being stuck in bed for almost a day at a time with the weight of nausea hanging over me and a family member to take care of me switching out every once in a while. It was most definitely not one of the best moments of my life and my stomach still clenched at the simple thought of it. I was a few years older now, so maybe I could manage to keep myself from getting sick this time if I didn't overthink it. I would just need to distract myself for the next few hours to get past that risk.

Sitting up on the edge of the bed, I gripped the thin blanket underneath me to keep myself upright, swaying slightly before I was able to steady myself. The light wavering of the boat was already causing my thoughts to jumble slightly, causing it to become more difficult to think straight, but I kept myself calm with deep breaths. Now, I thought to myself to set myself back on track. What can I do to distract myself?

Surely, the answer to this question was packed away in my backpack beside the bed, as it was the only bag I had brought with me. I grabbed hold of the backpack and tugged it closer to me, carefully unzipping it to search through my belongings that I had brought with me. Peering into the backpack, the first sight that I was presented with was the bundle of books I had brought to read, which I had put on top with the sole reason of distracting myself. Reading one of the books I had brought would definitely knock out a few hours of the trip to help me get by.

I reached my arms deep into the backpack to grab hold of the small stack of books clumped together on top of the rest of my belongings, carefully withdrawing them and dropping them onto the bed next to me. Having them out all at once would remove the hassle of digging through my backpack again when making the choice of which one to work through. I chose the book on the top of the stack, the thickest and most time-consuming, and plopped back down onto the bed to begin reading.

I could feel the boat rocking slightly back and forth in its travels over the waves as I settled into a slouched seat propped up against the back wall with my book in my paws. My stomach had begun to waver uneasily from the unsteady surface, subtly threatening to fall ill at ease, but I did my best to ignore it as I opened the book to take myself far into a different world.

The first few hours rolled by without a notable issue as the sun climbed higher into the sky in the midday. Fortunately, I was able to make it through a decent chunk of my book before my attention was eventually and gradually brought away. Each passing minute brought me farther and farther from the island I had called my home for all of my seventeen years, but I tried not to let those thoughts control my mind as I kept my focus still on the story I was immersed in. However, there was another recurring thought that came and went as well, one that was equally intense.

As the day crept further, everything was calm, both the words on the paper in front of me and the gentle rocking of the boat lulling me into the depths of my imagination as I sat slouched on the bed. It wasn't until the day crept closer to noon that I started picking up on some unpleasant problems. It was as if the rocking of the boat had slowly but surely gotten to my head, or more accurately, my stomach.

Eleven o'clock had just come and gone when my attention began to fall out of focus and my eyes began to wander. Up until this point, my restless stomach had only given a few uncomfortable jabs, but now it was already churning with growing nausea. I tried to keep my focus steady, yet the feeling only became increasingly bothersome until I could no longer follow the words on the page.

By the time I put my book aside, the swaying of the boat was more noticeable, as well as the tumbling of my stomach. I wasn't quite sure if I had the strength to leave my bed at all, so all I could do was climb under the slim blankets and try to get some rest. As the boat continued to sway me into my rest, I shut my eyes and strained my mind to forget the feeling washing over me.

The bell for lunch rang out not a minute after twelve, but I couldn't leave my bed. While I wasn't yet pushed to the point where I could throw up at any given moment, I wasn't sure that I would be able to keep anything down. As the bells were silenced and the meal carried on without me, I didn't risk dragging myself out of bed to get something to eat.

With some rest and thoughts of home to distract me, I thought that I would end out fine. I made sure to take care of myself well for the time when I was stranded in bed, allowing myself the rest I needed to regain my health and being my own sense of comfort to assure myself that the feeling wouldn't last forever and that I was going to be okay. The idea that someone was there to look after me eased the tension in my stomach just enough to give me hope for my recovery, even if it was just me looking out for me, and yet my illness consumed me for a number of hours ahead of me.

That was how the rest of my first day on the boat went on. I fell in and out of a light doze that carried me through the remaining hours of the day. A few times I wondered if I could force myself up and out of bed to grab a bite to eat as the afternoon passed me by, but I rejected this thought every time with the possibility that it would cause me to feel worse. I didn't leave my room for the rest of the day, remaining at rest in the narrow bed and finding it best to sleep off the entire issue. It was almost a breath of relief to see the sun sink below the horizon and the sky grow dark like a blanket of shadows had fallen over the water with the knowledge that I had gotten through the day.

However, surviving through the night was a living nightmare. The waves that the boat parted on its journey seemed more violent than before, wobbling from side to side in a way that nearly convinced me that it was about to tip over. Not only that, but the rumble of queasiness in my stomach had begun to threaten to spill out in addition to this. A moment was stretched into a million as I lay in agony in a sickeningly swaying boat in the middle of the night with the constant worry of sickness looming over me.

In the moment, I truthfully thought that I would never make it out. The entire situation just felt completely surreal and awful, so much so that it seemed I would never recover again. By the time that the morning sun began to inch into sight over the water, it felt like I had been through a lifetime of suffering. I had already been through so much to get there, and still, the journey was far from over.

Luckily, I just barely managed to keep my stomach under control for the night I was endlessly trapped in. Maybe this was because of the comfort I had been given with the act of taking care of myself, or maybe it was because the faint starlight cast upon the room from the small window made me feel a little less alone. It was as if the shining stars above me were looking down on me wherever I went, watching to keep track of my safety, and I would never truly be alone if I remembered what had been with me all along.

Maybe it was this thought that got me through the night. I would never know for sure. All I knew was when the sun came into sight in the morning and the sky became painted with bright colors, I was sure that I would be okay.

One night was finally over. One more night was left to go.

The gentle rocking of the boat eased me from sleep, and my eyes fluttered open to find that the room was already bathed in sunlight. I couldn't quite recall when I had managed to fall asleep, though it appeared to be a decent way through the morning now. It took me a few moments for me to realize that my stomach had been calmed again, but whether I was recovered or simply lucky, I couldn't tell for sure.

All of the events from the previous night flooded back into my mind as I curled up under the blanket again, drowsiness settling heavily over me like a kind embrace. After everything that I had struggled through, I was nearly limp with relief at the fact that the long night had finally come to an end. All that was left to do was to survive through another night, and I would arrive at the island the very next day. That was manageable, wasn't it?

A soft thud against the floor made me lift my head from the pillow to scan my surroundings. A few of the books I had left on the end of the bed had slipped to the floor, dropping in a scattered array beside the bed. I might not be reading for a while, but I would need to pick them up before I forgot. At least, it would be a good way to check if movement would cause a spike in the nausea that I had felt before.

I carefully drew back the blanket, climbing out onto the floor. After rising cautiously to my feet, my body swayed unsteadily for a moment before regaining control to stay upright. I felt abnormally fragile and shaky after the previous night had snatched away most of my strength, and the achy emptiness in my stomach didn't make me feel any better. With any luck, breakfast was still being served and the chance to get some food was still available to me.

Trembling slightly, I bent down to gather the books that had fallen to the floor, collecting them in my arms. Once all of the books had been gathered up again, I set them back down with the rest of the collection at the end of the bed and plopped into a seat on the edge. There, I had actually done something today.

I pushed out a heavy sigh, rubbing my sore and tired face with my paws. If I didn't want a repeat of last night, I would need to make a change and take further steps towards my recovery. I hadn't eaten a single thing in over twenty-four hours, and I could already tell that fact wouldn't help me recover any quicker. Logically, the first thing to do would be to try and choke down a light meal and see how my stomach reacted to it, but there were some problems.

I had received no instructions whatsoever of how to get to the dining room or what floor it was on, only that a bell would ring every time meals were first served. What if I got lost on my way there? What if I would be able to find my way, but there would be animals there that I didn't know trying to force an interaction? What if somebody was sick, or what if I myself got sick? All of these thoughts rushed back and forth through my mind, holding me back from leaving the comfort of my room at all, and I found that I didn't have the faintest idea what to do. If only Digby or my parents were here, they could tell me what needed to be done.

No. I couldn't afford to think about that right now. Pushing the thought from my mind, I thrust myself up from the bed, confirming the decision to find something to eat. I retrieved my keycard from underneath my pillow, carefully stepped around the backpack positioned against the side of the bed, and pushed the door open at last.

The narrow, plain hallway was deserted when I stepped out of the room. As the door fell shut behind me, I could still catch a hint of the sound of the waves crashing against the side of the subtly swaying boat. I tucked my keycard into the pocket of my pink jacket and scanned my surroundings, making sure of the fact that I was completely alone, and soon confirming the fact when I could pick up no sound of footsteps. Everyone was either in their rooms or still eating, it seemed.

After a brief glance around me, I caught sight of a sign on either side of the hallway at the turns directing me where to go. On the right, my only options were to find other rooms or go up to higher floors. The left directed me to five different options; more rooms, down to the first floor, the dining room, the exit, and the cargo storage. Following the directions leading me to the dining room would surely take me where I wanted to go, as long as I could manage to not get myself lost somehow.

Shoving my paws deep into my pockets to make sure I didn't misplace my keycard by accident, I unsteadily made my way for the sign at the right turn of the hallway, stepping with caution to keep from stumbling from the swaying boat. The directions provided by recurring signs led me through a few more thin hallways, passing door after door of bedrooms that were not my own, before I reached the stairs that would bring me to the first floor.

The lobby of the boat was also unoccupied when I arrived, even of any workers that I could have asked for instructions, and so I continued to rely on the signs to direct me. The rest of the walk was another long hall to a generally large room that I could only assume was the dining room with rows of tables and benches at each table. It most definitely wasn't as full as I had anticipated; while I had worried that there would be groups of animals scattered throughout the room, there were just a few here and there who didn't seem too keen on having a conversation. That was fine with me.

For a moment, I lingered near the double doors I had entered the room from, examining the room from afar to determine what the best course of action would have been. I wasn't used to making decisions on my own; before now, I always had someone to look up to. There were a few workers throughout the room focused on gathering dirty dishes from tables and didn't even glance up when I emerged into the room, but there were more behind a counter where a variety of food options were being provided.

Gradually gathering the knowledge of how to get food, I crossed the room without a word to fetch a tray from the stack at the starting end of the counter. I went along the counter to retrieve my food from the workers on the other side, forcing a decently cheerful smile onto my face and offering brief words of thanks when needed, and found myself with a bowl of watery soup and meager crackers when I stepped away again.

I wasn't too excited for any other interaction with other animals while being left so weak after the night I had, so I claimed a seat at an empty table and set down the tray with my dishes. The meal that I had been given didn't seem the most appetizing at first glance, but I knew better than to turn it down. Hesitantly, I picked up my spoon to take the first bite of my soup, gulping it down without a second thought.

As I worked through my meal, a quietness fell over the room with the exception of the clinking of dishes and silverware, leaving me deep in my thoughts. The soup was manageable to choke down, though it tasted mostly bland, but the crackers were completely dry and thick to chew, so I put them aside. Nobody came to speak with me, not even glanced in my direction, and so I didn't attract attention to myself, almost like I wasn't there at all.

The gentle rocking of the floor beneath me had begun to irritate my stomach by the time I had finished my soup, causing it to grumble sickeningly again. I didn't have plans to eat the remainder of my food, leaving me with two options: returning to my bedroom or staying seated until the dizziness passed. I nudged my tray aside to set down my head on my arms on the table in front of me, shutting my eyes and inhaling deeply to distract myself.

Slowly, my surroundings felt to fade around me as I focused intently on my breathing. With closed eyes, it almost seemed like it was simply the floor under me that was moving, and everything else remained still. As the delicate sounds around me drew me back into reality, I soon lost my grip on how much time was passing.

The sense of lightheadedness and nausea came and went quicker than I had anticipated. I could feel the strength slowly but surely inching its way back into my body as I sat still in the darkness of my closed eyes with my head resting casually on the table. When I was able to lift my head again, I almost felt like an entirely new animal, refreshed and ready to start again. Maybe I could manage to go through with this decision after all.

And with that, my meal was over. I glanced around the room, searching for a place to wash and store my dishes, but finding the walls bare. Having no other option, I abandoned the tray where it sat on the table and rose from my seat to head out again.

I departed from the room a little bit stronger than when I had entered.

The final hours of the day seemed to fly by me without much of an issue to take note of. Most of the afternoon and evening turned out generally calm, with the occasional spike in nausea from the rocking boat being easily ignored. After allowing myself a little bit of food in the dining room, I kept myself in my bedroom for what was left of the day with no intentions of leaving for the next several hours.

Once I had overcome my illness, for the most part, the day quickly slipped away from me like salt dissolving in water. I hardly paid any mind to the time until the sun began to creep below the horizon again, bursts of pink and orange stretched across the sky right outside my little window. It was only then that I was aware of my journey overseas gradually coming to an end.

Soon after seven o'clock had crawled past and the sun hung low over the sparkling, restless waves, the fact was becoming clear to me that if I didn't get to bed soon, I would have trouble sleeping. However, something about that wasn't sitting right with me, almost like there was something else that needed to be done before the day could come to a close. This was going to be my last day on the water. I might as well enjoy it while I still could.

At nearly seven-thirty, I took a walk up to the high balcony on the top of the boat to soak in the sights of the endless blue water and vivid skies, as it would be the last time I would have the chance. Restless from the day that was winding down, animals had begun to travel to and from their bedrooms like I was doing, but I moved along without any attempt at making conversation. I emerged onto the balcony two floors above my own to find that I wasn't alone, that a few animals must have had the same idea as me and were now scattered along the railing to observe the surroundings.

I stood at the rim, resting my paws on the railing at my waist and letting my gaze sweep the horizon. The waves around the boat tumbled over each other like they were all fighting to get somewhere, sloshing against the base of the boat and shimmering under the setting sun. The sky seemed to wrap around the world like a dome of colors and life, reaching farther than the eye could see. For the first time this year, the air was warm, passing over the space in little puffs of the breeze.

I listened to every sound that could be picked up from around me, letting the view sink in. It was indeed very peaceful, magical even, to be in the middle of such a sight with no worries and no responsibilities, at least for now. I easily found myself lost in the moment, drifting through any thought that came and went.

Tomorrow, I would arrive at my destination I had spent days waiting to reach. I wasn't sure what events were waiting for me there, but I would just have to take them as they came. It almost didn't feel true, like this was only a temporary change and would be returning to my normal routine in a day or two. But that wasn't the case. Tomorrow, I would begin my new life.

There was so much to consider about the end of one journey and the start of another, and yet, my thoughts were straying back to home. It was miles and miles away from me by now, so many that I couldn't even guess. Even now, I still longed for my presence there. I could still see the faces of Digby and my parents, the forced smiles they had put on in the last moments I had seen them. What could they have been doing now?

Digby must have been home from work by this time. This had been the first day he had returned to working at Happy Home after I left. Maybe he and our parents were eating dinner right about now, gathered around the table without me. Maybe they were waiting for a call from me.

I distractedly watched the waves crashing halfheartedly against the surface of the boat, pondering what there was to say when I did get the chance to call. When I took a moment to consider it, there really wasn't much to say, since rambling on and on about how I almost threw up all over my bedroom floor wouldn't exactly be a good way to start a conversation. It was possible that I just hadn't found an interesting story to tell quite yet. Perhaps my story was just beginning.

These thoughts continued to carry me deep into my imagination for the next following minutes before it was time to leave once more. The sun continued to drop lower and lower behind the unending water with every passing minute, hardly peeking over the horizon before the time had come to return to my bedroom. I could tell that eight o'clock had finally snuck up on me when a worker appeared up on the balcony to round up the animals who remained for curfew, since the space would not be supervised after that time. As a cluster, each one of us descended to our bedroom floors, disappearing one by one into the rooms for the night.

By the time I had closed myself off in my own bedroom again, the bright colors in the sky had gradually begun to fade, leaving it to darken as the night grew closer. As it was my very last night on the boat, I gathered my belongings in a brief cleaning of the room, packing all the books into my backpack where they had come from and double-checking that Digby's number was still tucked away safely into my pocket with my keycard and old ticket that I would have no more use for. It wasn't long before the room was left as bare and empty that it had been when I first arrived, and only then did I climb into bed and settle down to get some sleep.

After the journey behind me, a deep exhaustion held a heavy weight over my being, sinking down all the way to my bones. It was nothing less than a relief to get the chance to shut my eyes and allow myself the several hours of sleep I had missed before. With my backpack propped up against the bed to be ready for my departure in the morning, I curled up under the blanket with the comfort of an almost-complete recovery and the knowledge that my pain was soon to end. Weary and dreaming of land, I surrendered to the swaying of the boat and allowed it to rock me to sleep.

. . .

The next morning, I was up with the sun. Soft lights were already flooding my modest bedroom by the time my eyes had opened again and the sky had turned a pale blue in the early hours of the day. The rocking of the boat was already much less noticeable, implying that it was gradually slowing down in movement, but it was still evident. If my assumptions were correct, I would be arriving sometime in the next couple of hours.

As the sun inched further into the sky, I was already up and out of bed to prepare for departure. With a little bounce to my step with a burst of determination, I slipped on the jacket that I had worn almost continuously for the past few days, paused to make sure I had my keycard and Digby's number put away in my pockets, and went to make my bed to leave it as neat as I had found it. After sleeping in it for two full nights, it was the least I could do to help out.

Since the bed was pushed up so close against the wall, it was difficult to tuck in the sheets as tightly as they had been before, but I slid them back into place as neatly as I could manage. As I tidied up the blankets on the bed and arranged the pillow back into place, I couldn't help but sense a faint sort of lonesome, yet hopeful atmosphere hanging in the air that only made itself present at the end of a long journey. For some inexplicable reason, this brought me peace, settling the butterflies that fluttered in my stomach from new beginnings and warming my heart with delight.

Once the bed was made again, it hardly took a thought for me to realize that there was nothing more for me to do. Depending on the hour, it was a possibility that breakfast was not yet being served, and even if it was, the boat would reach land soon anyway. At this point, the very last option for me to take was just to wait. And so I did wait.

I climbed back onto the bed, careful but ignoring the fact that my weight would dent the previously smooth blanket, and eased into a casual position to lay down. Even before I had managed to settle down, thoughts were already zipping through my mind at the immense possibilities that lay before me. I could hardly keep any of them straight.

What sort of life would be waiting for me when I stepped off the boat? I had hoped that I would know what to do by now, which path I would take towards the most success, but I could see now that was unrealistic. I wasn't sure what the housing situation would be once I arrived, but I could already imagine myself moving into a brand new house of my own to help begin my career. Maybe that was unlikely, but it would be the best way to start my future.

At the very least, I had been to the island a few times before, but only for casual visits and never for working purposes. All of my options were completely unclear to me, and I didn't have the faintest idea of where to begin. Maybe I would be able to seek out some kind of counselor to help put me on the right track if the opportunity would be available to me.

Never mind about work, I realized as another thought bubbled up to awareness. What am I going to do about friends?

In the vast island almost twice the size of the one where I had grown up, I knew almost nobody. When I would arrive, I was going to be thrust into a massive group of animals I'd never seen before. I would need some kind of connection with other animals during my stay; otherwise, the trip might be too much for me to handle. I could only hope that they would be friendly and patient with me, since I wasn't familiar with going out and making friends and didn't want to think about if they wouldn't be.

I would be staying on the island for quite some time, surely I would be able to develop some close friendships. As my mind explored the idea of connecting with other animals through friendly relationships, I couldn't help but lightheartedly muse the idea of potential romance. I had never once fallen in love before that wasn't any more than a crush, but it seemed my mind was always in the clouds, as I had considered the possibility often. Everyone knew the main steps of falling in love: First came the nervousness before the genuine connection, which led to the bonding of souls. The idea brought a faint smile to my face as I contemplated this thought, but almost immediately recollected myself and noticed that I was getting a little bit distracted from making a decent plan.

Right. Work. What was I going to do? A successful career could only come from hard work, but that was the only thing I knew for sure. Before I knew it, my mind was already running away again, daydreaming about all of the potentiality of what the future held. I enjoyed entertaining the idea of grasping power and gaining accomplishments through persistent efforts, though never in a selfish type of way, simply for the fact of putting myself out there.

It was only the beginning, after all, so there wasn't much for me to expect right away, yet it was still fun to ponder the biggest and brightest future one could attain. I thought of the most successful, well-known business and business-owners to lead me; someone like the Mario brothers, who had formed a strong path for themselves by starting up countless companies of competitive sport with a number of accomplished individuals beside them. As a puppy, I had heard more stories of them than I could count, how the selection of applicants was so exclusive and only the luckiest few got directly invited. It was almost too big of an idea to dream of.

Well, I was getting ahead of myself. I didn't even know what I wanted to do for work at all, let alone what I wanted to make of it. Jumping in with too much of a rush could have been the perfect recipe for disaster. The best thing that I could do for now was to keep it slow and figure out a plan once it was necessary.

All of a sudden, my train of thought was cut short as a realization hit me. The boat had just come to a slow, unexpected halt, ceasing in its swaying entirely in a matter of seconds. With hesitation, I raised my head from my pillow to glance around me like I would find the answers somewhere in my bedroom. Had we arrived?

Moments later, the sound of a low horn like the one I had heard at the start of my journey resonated through the air, seeming to vibrate the bed beneath me. The horn sounded for another few seconds before silence hung over the space again, but this silence was only kept for a brief pause before an intercom from a speaker in the ceiling crackled to life.

"It looks as though we have arrived at our destination," a worker over the intercom announced in a cheerful voice. "Please keep in mind that this is the first island we will be stopping at during this round of travel. If this is where you wish to go, please begin to make your way over to the exit to leave the boat. If this is not your stop, please hold for the process of departure to begin once again. Thank you for choosing to travel with us and we hope you join us again soon."

As the intercom was shut off again, I scrambled up from the bed, more ready than ever to finally get the chance to leave. I snatched up my backpack from the floor, heaved it onto my shoulders, and pushed my way through the door without a second glance.

As I soon found out, I was not the first animal to reach the main lobby. Not even half of the animals that had boarded at the same time as me were already gathered there, maybe not even a third, and they all stood casually to wait scattered around the room. Since it was the first time I had worn my backpack in the past few days, the straps pressed firmly down on my shoulders with a heavy weight that I almost struggled to carry along, but I ignored this as I scanned the room with a bright curiosity.

Nobody seemed to have any more of an idea of what was going on than I did. No one spoke, since they all seemed too busy glancing around the room in a mild uncertainty. Three workers were gathered in a cluster at the doors, engaged in a hushed conversation, while another worker was making their way around the room, collecting something from each animal that they passed.

Oh, the keycard. I ducked my head, pawing through my pocket and withdrawing the keycard I had received on the first day. The worker continued to saunter around the room, retrieving keycards from all of the animals waiting in the lobby before they eventually passed me. I let them take the keycard off my paws, readjusting the backpack hanging off my shoulders, and listened for more instructions.

By the time the worker had collected all of the keycards in the room and was walking to leave again, the other workers that had been talking near the doors were beginning to disperse. One of them stepped to stand in front of the slim crowd of waiting animals and faced us in preparation to address us, while the other two went off towards the doors.

"May I have your attention, please?" the worker in front of the crowd requested in a loud voice. Gradually, every head turned to look at them and listen to what needed to be said. "As you are all aware, you are about to exit this boat and get back onto land in the next few minutes. The doors will be open very soon and we will begin the exiting process momentarily. To allow this process to run as smoothly as possible, I would like to ask you to form a single-file line and exit patiently, carefully, and when you are told."

With this announcement, movement was set into motion again as the animals began to form a thin line down the middle of the room, eager to follow directions and get off the boat. I still didn't have a strong idea of what was happening, so I lingered in the back of the room while this was being done, only joining the very back of the line when everyone was in place.

The thrusting open of the doors sent the bright lights of morning streaming into the room, falling over the dark carpet. I tried to peer around the line of animals in front of me to get a glimpse of the world outside, but I was just too far away to see anything but blue sky. A soft breeze quickly found its way into the room, sweeping across the space in no hurry whatsoever, welcoming me forward like a pair of loving arms.

Then, the same worker was speaking again, though I could no longer catch sight of them. "Thank you very much for following directions quickly and efficiently," they called out. "The doors have now been opened, and you all are free to leave once you are dismissed. We hope you enjoyed your trip with us and we hope that you will choose to travel with us again."

My heart gave a little leap. It was time!

Hardly moments after the announcement of departure was made, the line began to shuffle forwards through the room towards the open doors. I followed with a jittery stomach and a firm grasp on the straps of my backpack, watching as the doorway slowly became closer. One by one, the animals departed through the open doors, shortening the line by each passing second until it was my turn to step through the doorway.

The early morning sun was beaming brightly down on me as I shuffled over the walkway with wobbling legs from the new steadiness of the boat. The walkway ended at the base of a beach with sand reaching multiple yards from the boat before it met grass again, although the snow appeared to have already melted here. There was a different group of animals gathered on the sand to wait for their chance to board the boat, and off to the side, a batch of wooden boxes presumably to be delivered as cargo. It almost looked like the day I had left my home island, but with a much different setting.

As I stepped out onto the thick sand, my eyes strayed along the cluster of animals that had exited the boat in front of me. Surely if I followed them out from the beach, they would know where to go. And it seemed they all did; as a group, they had all begun to travel over the sand to the grass in the direction of what could only be the source of residence.

Without a moment of hesitation, I started off towards the group, drifting close behind to be led to the housing. The group ventured off the sand and across the short grass, emerging into an evident path created by the parting of trees towering overhead bursting with little buds from the opening of spring. A soft, warm breeze swept across the grass as I went along following the crowd with every step, raising my head to scan my vast surroundings in a wide-eyed interest by the beautiful sights.

The scenery seemed to extend forever. Trees scattered along the landscape for as far as the eye could see, some even with blossoming pink and purple flowers, and enormous mountains that looked to have been submerged only by the tip in snow reached around the rim. Even the sky left me completely numb with awe. The pale blue above me was deep and endless, though a few streaks of orange and pink stretched around the very edges, still slowly dissolving from the sunrise. It must have been the most fascinating thing I had ever seen, but since I hadn't visited for many years, it had already faded from memory before now. Maybe it was from the pure loveliness of the sight or maybe it was because of the emotional roller coaster I had put myself through over the past week that I was still recovering from, but I couldn't prevent a weak sob from bubbling up from my throat and a tear to fall down my face, which I hastily wiped away before it could be seen.

I followed the group of animals through the trees with blooming flowers for another few minutes, gradually regaining control over my emotions, before the space opened up into a broad patch of grass at last. Spread out across the grass was an assortment of tents, each one a dark tan in color and no taller than six feet in height. There must have been at least twenty, fairly spaced across the area, but I was unable to count them all in one glance.

Before the tent area, right at the start of the grassy opening, a single table was set up with nothing but sheets of paper in two stacks and a cup to hold writing utensils. I could only catch a glimpse of this table before my vision was blocked as the group of animals I had followed clustered around it to take turns writing on individual pieces of paper. I didn't protest against this but instead paused to wait for the group to clear away, watching the animals disperse one by one to head off towards the tents before it was my turn to step forward.

Once all of the other animals had already taken their leave, I wandered closer to the table, examining the objects that lay upon it to determine what needed to be done. With a closer inspection, I was quickly able to identify what the two piles of paper were for and how it would help me. One of the stacks held a blank registration form prompting a few aspects of information, most likely to officially move into the campsite, and the other held the sheets of animals that had come before me.

I grabbed a pen from the container at the corner of the table, carefully examining the registration sheet to check what information I would be required to fill out. At the very top was a box following the prompt of something very easy to write down: my own name. Isabelle, I scribbled into the box.

Below my name, the sheet asked for my age, my breed, and my reason for staying. This also wasn't much of an issue for me. Seventeen, Shih Tzu, work. By the time that I had finished answering these questions as well, I was already starting to see why the animals before me had finished so quickly.

But after these basic questions, I still wasn't completely done, though I was almost there. I could tell that the questions had reached a bit of a more complicated point when I was requested to list the number of the tent I wished to stay in. I removed my focus from the paper in front of me to search the table for anything that could provide me with a little more information, eyes darting across the surface before falling upon a single sheet of paper at the far end with nothing but a record of numbers from one to twenty-five. Most of these numbers had already been crossed off before I had reached the table, yet there were some that remained open: four, nine, sixteen, eighteen, and twenty-two. Those must have been the final available tents for me to choose from.

I chose a tent without much of a thought, jotting down the number nine after the prompt and scribbling the number out of sight on the list before moving on to the next and last question. It was another one that was generally straightforward, this one asking simply if there was anything I wanted to bring to attention during my stay. There was nothing that I could come up with on the spot, so I answered as such.

After withdrawing the pen from the paper, I scanned through the remainder of the text at the bottom of the page to find a question, but soon discovered that it was only a paragraph with extra information and that I had already filled out all of the questions. I tucked the pen away back into the container, having finished with its use, and picked up the piece of paper from the table to read through the final paragraph.

All questions or concerns during stay at this campsite can be taken to the main office, which can be reached from the paved pathway on the far right of this area. Please do not remove this sheet from the table where you have located it. The office will be open twenty-four hours a day and holds a number of available options to cater to your needs. There will be public restrooms, a phone to be used with no cost, information bulletins to learn more about this campsite, and much more. Please enjoy your stay.

While there were other statements to take note of as well, there was one segment that stood out to me. A phone to be used with no cost. It was exactly how I had hoped it to be. The opportunity had finally been presented to me to be able to call Digby and check on everything happening at home. I would have to do so once I settled into the campsite a comfortable amount.

After I had finished reading, I set down the sheet of paper into the stack with the previously completed work, carefully adjusting it to make it tidy before glancing up at the array of tents ahead of me. As of right now, I had officially begun my stay at the campsite, so all that was left for me to do was to find my tent and start unpacking. Then, somehow make it feel like a home away from home.

Shifting the backpack on my shoulders to help bear the bulky weight, I emerged into the display of tents, carefully examining each one to find my own. Every door revealed a number, large and clear, but they didn't appear to be in any particular order as I passed them by. Eight, fourteen, two, twenty... The list went on as I wandered through the area, searching for the tent with the number nine.

The ninth tent was one of the farthest in the back, nearby to the trees which bordered the grassy space. Because of this, it was put up in a particularly shady spot. I dropped to my knees in front of it, unzipping the door and pulling it open to peer inside. On the inside of the tent, I quickly found about seven square feet of floor space, which I could instantly tell would be plenty of room for me and my belongings.

Leaving the unzipped doorway hanging open, I crawled into the tent and tugged the backpack from my shoulders, letting it thump down onto the thin sheet that was the floor. Knowing exactly what I needed to do, I proceeded to unzip the backpack in front of me, removing the stack of books right on top and piling them to the floor before I was faced with the tightly-rolled emerald green sleeping bag.

With complete focus, I dug out the sleeping bag from the backpack and dropped it onto the floor of the tent. I unfastened the clasps holding the sleeping bag together as it sat in a roll, pausing to check that everything had been unhooked before smoothing it out in front of me. It was incredibly wrinkled from the lack of use for so many years, but surely it would do.

Once I had successfully managed to unroll my sleeping bag, I reached back into my backpack for the small pillow left cramped near the bottom. A light gust of wind had begun to fiddle with the open door of my tent, causing it to flap halfheartedly at the entrance, but I hardly gave it a thought. I withdrew my pillow from the backpack and set it at the head of my sleeping bag to prepare my makeshift bed. Well, that was that task done.

A sudden sound to hit my ears lifted my head again to listen, attention perking up at the familiarity. It was fainter than I had heard it before, but it was still definitely clear. It was the sound of the horn from the boat I had just gotten off of, resonating through the atmosphere as a sign of the next trip's departure. As soon as the sound hit the air and I was able to process what had made it, I felt a slight smile creep to my face at a thought to cross my mind.

With the final sound of the horn, only then had my journey really begun.