Wheeling Gull Isle not unlike the waves

Coelacanth watched the tableau with rapt attention, craning her neck and leaning her weight on her opposite elbow so she could shift her leg ever so slightly. She touched her nose lightly to her daughter’s with a reassuring smile. “Peace be, little dear,” she breathed, meeting her husband’s eyes as he offered reassurances of his own. Her Neptune eyes were warm with affection as Stockholm gathered Thresher to his breast, and she joined her sons on the battlefield for her daughter’s honor.

The flower was pulp at this point, so the gentle mother sought something else to capture her boy’s attention. She did not have to go far; the seawolves were kind about leaving gifts for the children, Fern and Mur included. A velveteen doe’s ear and a strip of spotted hide were easily and quickly procured and set expansively upon the ground in front of Grayling and Sixgill. Then, a little abruptly and for no apparent reason, the Aralez caught a bad case of the zoomies and began dashing haphazardly around the clearing, her tail whirring like a helicopter rotor as she flopped down on her forequarters with her cheek and right shoulder flush against the earth and began to propel herself forward toward the boys with a push of her hindquarters.