"I must go down to the sea again:
to the lonely sea and the sky,
and all I ask is a tall ship
and a star to steer her by,
and the wheel's kick and the wind's song
and the white sails shaking,
and the grey mist on the sea's face
and a grey dawn breaking."

The voice rang out clean and clear over the open plateau, caught up in the windy gusts and swept out on the friendly breeze. It was nice up there, and the dragons were friendly. The land was pretty, the travelers were many, and the stories were always interesting. And the wind, it made lovely currents, sweeping and swirling in ways that felt almost right. The Tundra dragon's wings could ride them for longer than she'd ever thought her wings would hold in the air. It was an enjoyable place to be, no one could deny.

But it wasn't home.

"I must go down to the sea again
for the call of the running tide
is a wild call and a clear call
that cannot be denied,
and all I ask is a windy day
with the white clouds flying
and the flung spray and the blown spewm
and the seagulls crying."

Far below, the waves of the Sea of a Thousand Currents licked at the cliff edges. If she peered, Lorelei could see the ships sailing hither and yon, swept along indeed by the wind currents that were starting to become familiar, but more importantly caught by the currents of the sea, the currents that gave it its name. She'd traded many stories, and many goods besides. It had been a lovely visit. She'd come back someday, she was certain. But not right away - there were so many other places to explore first. She could relate with these Wind dragons on that - there was always somewhere new to see.

But what always stayed the same was the best way to get there.

"I must go down to the sea again,
to the vagrant ***** life,
to the gull's way and the whale's way
where the wind's like a whetted knife;"

So Lorelei pulled up out of her long dive and bid goodbye to the wind's currents, slipping with hardly a splash into the sea's. One of those sailing ships was hers - or might be someday. But she didn't need a ship to travel the currents. Her wings could ride the waves farther than any wind. What cared she for wet fur? The trip home was always sweeter than the journey away.

"And all I ask is a merry yarn
from a laughing fellow rover,
and quiet sleep and a sweet dream
when the long trip's over."