Wheeling Gull Isle oka falamah

New life filled the island. She smelled them along the familiar trails, heard their songs on the air. Jasmine lived for these moments now. The island was theirs - hers, in a way. A place of safety, and of home.

She watched the new boy now from a cliff by the water’s edge. The crash of waves droned out most of her other senses, but the darkness could not eclipse her sight. He leapt for the waters, catching sea spray in his paws.

Hey sea biscuit, she hopped down to the wave soaked sand, clear levity in her voice, watch this! and she rushed past the boy to break into a wave that prepared to break against the shore, letting herself get caught up in its height before it pushed her back onto the sand, where the waters broke. Laughing, all the while.