Wheeling Gull Isle Sailors live so restlessly

There was more time spent suckling away at His Teat than anything else—even in his sleep, Xiaoqing oftentimes remained latched. As the days went by and the children grew, the boy’s gluttonous habits were beginning to show in the form of distended sides and rolls. As all children so frequently were, he was oblivious; the changes were noticed only when he moved himself, which was not often, and then quickly forgotten shortly thereafter. If life could remain this way always, he would be satisfied until the end. But life was always changing, evolving with the encouragement of developments.

Still was the moon reigning over the sky when the child awoke, a hiccup startling him—enough that his eyes slowly began to open, a sliver’s worth of gained sight increasing each time he blinked until his eyes were as wide as the moon itself. Everything seemed dark, still, the traces of moonlight seeping into the den being the only light to greet him—and he hardly noticed the change, sight blurry and unreliable. But even as young as he was, Xiao understood something was amiss. And that newly discovered disturbance led to him whining and whimpering, growing louder with each breath, ignorant of those that may be sleeping around him.