Wheeling Gull Isle little star, tonight

With all the rush and gusto of dark, frothy waves upon the shore, came the realization of being to little Thresher. The first breath she pulled into her lungs was as startling as the cool of ocean water when stepping off a ledge and over a dropoff. She squirmed, the novel sensation alarming her, but with that breath came more, and instinctively she bawled quietly, soft grunts beseeching this existance to go easy on her; be gentle, with the little lass.

Tucked against warmth and cleansed with the gentlest touch, she was soothed, and when her mouth found its way to suckle at her mother’s breast she latched on and drank hungrily. The nourishment filled her with her first feeling- happiness.