Wheeling Gull Isle sprucing up the place

I’m sorry I made you wait for fifty years. ♥

The Seelholms were out on Coaltree Rise, butchering the bloated horses and trying desperately to salvage whatever herbs they could. Reed and Maegi’s gardens were absolutely obliterated, and so was the field of flowers — but Seelie peered at the shorn grasses and shoots and believed that all would be well once spring rolled around. Cleaning up the aftermath of the storm was backbreaking, bloody, unforgiving work — and Stockholm and Komodo were still working when Seelie called an abrupt down-stay and shepherded the children off to bathe, eat, and rest.

The sheepdog limped along in search of Lucas and Currituck, and this was how she ended up crossing paths with the banded raven. Disheveled, looking slightly worse for wear, she shook out her pelt and greeted the larger female with a gentle smile. Had she been human, Coelacanth might have skimmed her palms along her temples, smoothing a small symphony of flyaways into place before greeting her friend with a considerable amount of flusteration (which really should be a word). I’m tired and delirious and my head hurts. Here, take all my dumb posts. Love you!

Getting back on track, “Lamb,” the Aralez breathed wearily, bumping her nose with rough affection against the taller wolf’s shoulder. “Peace be.”