Wheeling Gull Isle Ocean was your lover’s name

Early in the morning did the gulls wake him, their far-off cries an unusual sound to be heard. Baby blues sprang open, wide, and glossed with curiosity. Quiet babbles escaped his maw, fading into the nothingness. He stared at his siblings and mother, wondering about them briefly, but the attention of a child is an ever-fleeting thing. Hardly a handful of seconds passed and his gaze was drifting, seeking out the soft rays of the morning light.

Wanting to investigate, he sat up and rocked back and forth on his rear, forelimbs sliding in an attempt to lay him flat on his stomach once more. Determined, Xiaoqing tried once more, struggling as he pushed himself to his feet; his limbs shook beneath the weight of his body, his constant eating finally catching up with him. A single step was just barely taken before he stumbled and fell flat on his face, momentarily stunned—but the silence that followed was ever so brief, his cries soon filling the den, growing louder and louder with each intake of breath.

phone post

The dancer had taken to sleeping closer to her leader's den, a place that would allow her the best view of the children that always tried to escape from their one and only home. The gulls were the reason for her eyes being open, their cries were distracting and even annoying to someone trying to get as much rest as possible before she needed to look after the growing children of the pack.

A cry struck her, deep in her chest it stabbed. She knew that sound and who it belonged to, the only boy of the litter. The last to rise but the first to claim a spot at the mill bar, his cries grew and she was at the mouth of the den in an instant. A cooing came from her lips as she looked over the little one, her tongue coming to sooth him in an instant.

Before long, the child’s cries were rewarded with a gentle touch—something that was becoming a habit, bad or otherwise. Shushed by the soothing gesture, Xiaoqing’s cries died down to mere whimpers. This was something he could get used to, having his cries answered with attention—well, that is, until his vision focused enough for him to realise that he did not recognise the one comforting him.

As if someone lit a fire beneath him, the boy was up and stumbling backward, away from the stranger. The cries previously silenced were born again, this time louder and more insistent. Who was this? Where was the Milk Giver? Why wasn’t she the one to answer his cries? Confused and scared, the sailor’s voice continued to ring out so loudly that it might even give a Siren a run for her money.

his cries softened before disapearing completely at her touch, he had seemed to likethe way sheresponded to his cries. wait, was that a bad thing? was she rewarding his bad behavior with affection and plees to quiet down, maybe she should stop but she did not have the heart to hear his cries any longer. watery puppy blue eyes focused on her only to widen in alarm, she was not the one he had wanted to respond to his cried. She remembered that this was his first time actually seeing his guardian and caregiver, he had not reconized her by sight but he would by scent.

Dark ears swiveled back and flattened as his shrieking became louder and high pitched, oh my! she quickly curled around him so that he was undoubtatly surounded by her scent and would have no choices but recognize his babysitter, a cooing came from her as gave him gentle kisses of affection and soothing qualities.

Despite his audible protests, the stranger did not leave. Rather, she came closer and surrounded him, an action against which the child squirmed and whined louder. That the woman’s scent was familiar meant nothing to him—all that mattered was that she wasn’t the Milk Giver, she wasn’t the one he wanted comfort from. Flailing his little legs, his whines eventually became shrill shrieks, forceful enough to hurt his throat—which, of course, only made him cry harder. And, in an effort to make his feelings known, the boy began chomping wildly and aimlessly at anything he could grab; simple milk teeth or not, he was ready to put them to use!