Wheeling Gull Isle loneliness is a dealer's sweep

Closely did the boy watch, baby blues following his mother’s as she sunk closer to the ground. Still as could be, the only part of him to move was his ears, perking at the sound of her voice. The sounds foreign yet, no more understandable to him than his babbling to her. Disinterest threatened to take over, encouraged by confusion until something did make sense—she was closer to the ground, closer to them, which meant it was time to play!

Various sounds of incoherent rambling slipped out of his mouth as Xiaoqing hoisted himself—after a very obvious and almost-painful-to-watch struggle—up onto unsteady legs and bounded towards her. Tumbling over several times before finally reaching her, the little chunkster didn’t falter before flopping over in front of her, whining excitedly.