Wheeling Gull Isle certain to tell you, confusion has its cost

Her annoyance only ratcheted up as Venninne removed herself from the others, wandering near the mouth of the den. Don't, she mouthed, but no sound emerged—just a tiny burst of air. She was exhausted, and she stretched out her neck, wondering if she could reach the girl without having to move the rest of her body. . .but to no avail. The eldest child was too far away.

Stay in the den, Maegi managed to whisper, watching Venninne with gimlet eyes. Chewing, chewing—Jaes, babies were so mouthy, weren't they? Biting and suckling on anything they could find. So tactile, so curious.

Her icy mood began to melt, albeit slowly, at the sight of the growing girl: still baby-pudgy, but far from the blind-deaf lump of flesh she'd been at birth.

Every day of their life was a blessing. Every day they remained alive, a gift.

What've you got there, Ven? she asked gently, raising her brows.