Wheeling Gull Isle with gunmetal bones

On small, dainty feet, she danced along the shoreline in hour before dawn, where she could feel the power of the tide as it drew the immeasurable ocean waves back, wave by wave. With each jesting lunge, she chased the waves out, and delighted in the fact that when they surged forward again- it was with less vigour, and with less reach. She moved with sprightly steps, her tassel-like fur swaying and playing on the air as she bounded along the water's edge, neatly sidestepping the lapping waters with ease. When the tide went out, it meant that she could scavenge- something she had missed very, very much. 

She rounded a sandy cape and saw, in the distance, a figure whose gaze swept over the toiling waters and to the mainland. She followed his gaze, but saw nothing that attracted her attention. Still, he seemed so...Still, so sentry-like. Thresher, as always, felt the island was a perfectly safe home, and that one only need watch the landbridge when it was actually present. Swift movement caught her eye, and with one lunge she pinned and grabbed the skittering creature before it could scuttle back into the safety of the water that swelled around the rocks. Still flailing its claws, the crab was clamped securely in Thresher's mouth as she made her way toward the stranger. She approached with an appeasing, low stature, and once she was close enough, she clenched her jaws- causing the crab's shell to break inward with a sharp crack, and made the snapping claws fall, lifeless. She set the crab down in the space between the, and shuffled back a few steps silently. Kneading the sand at her feet kittenishly, she smiled and looked at the crab with glittering eyes which flickered back and forth between the male and the catch hopefully. 

"Is breakfast," She peeped, quietly. "Welcome," She said, a small, high-pitched laughter pealing off her tongue. She wondered, then, if he had gotten used to a diet of sea life- or if this would be new to him.