Wheeling Gull Isle she was a tender flower

Fanglong was not the only one, roaming against the soft tides. She did not inland too much, staying away from the forested area, and taking close to the sandy shores. Perhaps her pelt was fully of sand, and the taste of sea-salt was high. She slept and breathed at the tides, fairing little to much else.

The woman, seeing another, a bright woman who smelled of Yuelong- gave a short nod of hello.