Wheeling Gull Isle don't be cautious, don't be kind

A smirk played at the corners of her inky lips as her packmate let out a good-natured yip, and although she was expecting him to turn and face her she had not expected him to bowl her over with his shoulder.

Exaggeratedly, she rolled over and tossed up sand as she went, a chirp escaping from between her loosened jaws.  Her sights set on the swaying whip of his tail and her teeth clattered together as she made several attempts to grab it.  It left her underbelly exposed — a vulnerability she did not allow to many — though since he was a packmate and not an outsider she trusted him to not damage her.