Wheeling Gull Isle not unlike the waves

It didn't take long for Thresher to regain confidence, not when Stockholm reassured her and a moment had passed. She lifted her head, enjoying his preening and gentle words, and looked over toward the flower which by now was being assulted by both of her brothers. A tiny smile made its way onto her face as she watched them, grateful that they seemed to take it upon themselves to hassle the feather that had caused her to sneeze. The flower was no longer a threat- not with Sixgill beating at it and Grayling accusing it of its terrible misdeeds, but she nonetheless did not join in- there wasn't exacly a hostile bone in her body, not even when it came to self-defence, apparently. 

So instead, she removed herself from her mother's dark fur and nestled herself between her father's forepaws. While once she'd been small enough that she and another could curl up ther, she noticed now that the space between her father's forelegs had seemingly shrunk. Still, she was able to happily sprawl over them both, and began to reach gently for his muzzle with her two careful forefeet, willing him to lower his dark muzzle so she could get more cuddles.