Wheeling Gull Isle Seven Matches

I’ll ease up on my replies a bit to let the other seawolves welcome her home, too! ♥

The sheepdog listened carefully to her daughter, tufted ears straining forward upon her skull to catch every stray syllable. All the while, her muzzle poked and prodded the girl in a ticklish, probing manner, and one feathered forelimb swept to cradle the dainty wisp more tightly against her breast. “Home now. Safe now,” she breathed worshipfully, seeking to reassure herself as much as Thresher that this was indeed so. She was eternally grateful that Stockholm’s miniature had encountered only kind strangers — at least, that’s how it sounded — and said so: “Good wolves,” she praised them, hoping that wherever they were, they were happy and hale and well-protected from the coming storm. It was Thresher who received her highest praise, though. “My smart, brave, beauty, dear — my good girl,” she murmured, picking only the finest words from her garden to present to the little fawn.