Wheeling Gull Isle the lonely sea and the sky

Coelacanth’s slim jaws are clenched tight as she braces herself for the pain that will surely come — but it never does. Instead, the polished black button of Cascada’s nose presses a soft, butterfly-frail touch just between Seelie’s bright, bewildered eyes and the nearness is at once so terrifying and pleasurable that she squeezes them shut. A shiver dances its way down her spine, and when the contact ends less than a heartbeat later, her eyes fly wide in protest.

Cascada retreats a step, and a strangled “yelp” that is more of a sharp rush of air escapes the diminutive creature. Muddied hindquarters shove Coelacanth forward to immediately close the renewed distance, and she stops just short of throwing her slight frame against the green-eyed girl’s slender forelegs. “Please don’t leave me!” she begs without speaking, her Neptune eyes luminous and frightened, the tip of her nose trembling wildly as she reaches out to touch it to her friend’s paw. Yes, she is hungry — she is always hungry —

— but she does not want to be left behind.