Wheeling Gull Isle The Boy Who Lived

A head suddenly popped out from under a rocky outcropping. Strand jumped back despite herself, not expecting to see a random head pop out of nowhere. She glared at him, trying to look intimidating, and it seemed to work because he soon ducked back down under the rock again. She smirked, and then her ears perked at his question. His not very specific or helpful question. “Ugh,” she sighed. “Do I know where who went?” she demanded. “I can’t read your mind.” Still, even as she spoke, a small portion of her heart, the part that was actually nice and didn’t hate people, felt bad for the boy. He seemed to be around Padma’s age—still a pup, but not for much longer. That meant Strand wasn’t much older than him, but she still felt responsible for him since he was younger than her. Maybe she could help him find whoever he was looking for.