Wheeling Gull Isle Man Machine Poem

The snort went unnoticed by the Guppy, who did, however, notice that the sway of Moorhen’s tail became more exaggerated. Elated, she continued to pounce from side to side, a whispery giggle escaping her as she did so. Moments like these, where Thresher lost contact with her normal reservations and anxieties, were few and far between- so she enjoyed the little game very much. 

She felt safer and more at home led away from the smoke and to a more secluded area. She nodded to Moorhen and touched her nose to the female’s shoulder in appreciation as well. She wriggled her toes in the damp, thin layer of sand, enjoying the cool of it. Absent-mindedly, she sat down and began to drag her claws through the silt, making messy trails and lines that didn’t exactly convey any image in particular, but were still somewhat symmetrical and pleasing to the eye. Once finished, she looked to Moorhen and chuffed, looking for her opinion.