Wheeling Gull Isle No one knows anything but us.

In what felt like a heartbeat, a whole day had passed.

She was not out of the woods yet, but to have lived through her first twenty-four hours without slipping away was likely beyond anyone's expectations. Weak from a too-early delivery and malnourished from whatever it was that prevented her from gaining the correct nutrients in the womb, there was still a long road with many obstacles ahead for little Luli.

Most notably, she struggled to feed. Almost as soon as she sourced a teat did one of the bigger, greedier pups shove her aside to claim it for themselves. Luli would cry out, of course, but the frail sounds that came from her were easily drowned out by those of hungry littermates.

It was the way of newborns: the strongest took from the weakest in order to survive. They were not to know any better and lacked the ability to care for the other small bodies they'd been forced to share their mother with. Each one carried on only for themselves and for tiny Luli, there was not much fight left to give.