Wheeling Gull Isle All the world is made of faith, and trust, and pixie dust.

Strand’s shoulder was getting better and better every day, and by this point, she could walk almost normally again. She still couldn’t place much weight on it, but at least she didn’t have to walk around with her right paw help up off the ground. Having Padma here for company had been, well, a life-saver, literally and figuratively. Padma had been helping her with food, but also keeping her company so she wouldn’t die of loneliness and boredom. Strand really appreciated her new friend, and her angry outer shell was melting away under Padma’s soft gaze. Maybe it was time to say thank you.

She had woken up early to the sound of birds chirping in the canopy overhead. She crawled out of the little bed she’d made for herself with dirt and moss and pine needles and shook off her coat, grateful that she still had thick winter’s fur to protect against the dipping temperatures at night. Padma’s scent trail led out of the forest and Strand followed it and found her friend lying down in the sand near the water. She looked like she was still asleep. Strand grinned. 

“Hey!” she called, limp-walking over to Padma’s dark frame in the sand. “Still asleep? Wakey, wakey!” She nudged her friend with a paw, feeling playful for some reason. She had a feeling it was going to be a good day.