Wheeling Gull Isle the lonely sea and the sky

“Come with me?”

The invitation isn’t enough to fully transform Coelacanth into the cheerful creature that scrabbles to be set free, but it loosens some of the tension in her tightly wound frame. She seems to melt the moment Cascada’s nose brushes against the tapered petal of her ear, a low and rhythmic purring taking up residence in her throat, and shimmies closer. When the green-eyed girl lifts a paw, Coelacanth snakes her muzzle and then the crown of her head under the cool, leathery pads like an overeager kitten seeking affection. From this odd vantage point, she slants an oblique glance shyly up at the willowy female and nods bashfully. The pain of her injuries and the shame she feels at her unkempt state are forgotten in an instant.