Wheeling Gull Isle Look monsieur, where all the children play.

each growl spurned from her lips in the manner of a wave sent to shore, and like a wave found its rest against the hard edge of her throat, and rebound and came again --

until at last the final rumble spilled from her jaws, nestling exhausted against her worried tongue. ana brought ava back from the precipice with her gentleness, her comforting touch that set each firebrand nerve back on its rightful path, soothed.

the man did not return -- the snarls directed at his person fizzled out into low breaths.

dinah. ava's eyes sought her a moment and something eclipsed their often hard stare: was it gratitude, understanding, kinship? it did not linger.

ana moved close with a sigh. ava wedged herself between where john had been seen last, and her two siblings. her thin ears were cupped ahead, sharp outlines set against the rounding of her head. 

let him come back -- she dared him -- let him taste teeth anew.