Wheeling Gull Isle and what is it you say to them?

SORRY. It's been a busy week. Oof.

Strand’s chest swelled with pride—and ego—when the male mentioned fishing on her island. “Yeah,” she said, “that sounds good.” She was referring to them sharing whatever they caught. Strand might be egotistical but she wasn’t a complete ass. The male had done nothing to offend her and had accepted that the island was hers, so sharing food was the least she could do in return for his deference.

She stood still in the water beside him and soon enough, a fish swam close enough for her to see it. She glanced at the silvery male out of the corner of her eye but he made no move to catch it. Mentally shrugging, she lunged down at the fish near his legs—and completely missed. The fish darted away quickly, moving out of reach faster than she could blink almost. She pulled her face out of the water and said, “Fuck.”