Wheeling Gull Isle sea fever

The little Groenendael tipped her delicate head to the side, regarding King with an oblique, upturned expression of shy curiosity. His warm reception of her reinforced the belief that he was safe — and perhaps it was this that coaxed her true nature out of hiding. Her feathered plume waved slowly behind her, intermittent tremors and quakes in her waiflike musculature betraying the lingering unease that she could not seem to shake; but when she attempted to mirror his playful bow with one of her own, she seemed to get stuck.

Catlike paws inched forward and the crenellated bridge of her spine arched gracefully, but she stopped short and hesitated, drawing back up to her full height. She repeated this nervous gesture a few times, but it became plain to her that King was more concerned with her observing his game than taking part in it. With the pressure lifted, Seelie relaxed enough to pirouette neatly, her slim jaws parting as she “barked” encouragement. The flutter of her tail increased in pace as she ghosted a few daring paces forward, tilting her head and neck to the right as she lifted up her left forepaw and waved at him with timorous playfulness.