Wheeling Gull Isle i don't do cutesie symbols.

Try as he might to escape the label "moldy ballsack," Killdeer was built for strength, not speed. Or at least he would be when he grew out of this chubby phase. Caracal was much swifter, and though Killdeer was no quitter, the younger boy was quickly left in the dust.

He was just pulling up, also panting, in time to catch his friend's call out to him. His gaze followed the line of sight and—

Oh, man. What is that? 

Killdeer had been under the impression that once the ocean got going, it just didn't stop. No more land. Donezo. But that certainly was land, and he peered at it in the manner of a pirate spying an isle previously unseen.

I wonder how you get there, he remarked. He felt a little uneasy that Caracal would suggest they swim. He wasn't that good of a swimmer; he could do ponds and the shallows of lakes, but this? Nuh-uh, no way.