Wheeling Gull Isle I pray for the wicked on the weekend

Although Droman didn’t seem particularly pleased with her presence, Coelacanth offered him a lopsided smile. Just what did the little scientist think they were doing out there? She believed that the ruddy little wolf — who was already on his way to outweighing her in size and stature — would one day wish to stretch his legs off island as so many others did, and the thought made her a little sad. “What do you dream?” she breathed softly, bumping the bridge of her muzzle companionably against the underside of his chin. The word she’d meant was “think” but no matter what he answered, she would be an active listener, curious about his theories and his thoughts.