Wheeling Gull Isle i’ve got the magic in me

Dinah grew more and more into herself as the days passed; large, bumbling paws much too big for her pudgy little body aside. 
She is her father's shadow, in looks and in action, following his footsteps with high-pitched whines and an unsteady gait. The denmouth is bathed in the warmth of early summer sun, and for the first time, she pushes past him to exit on her own. 
The sandy ground is warm, very warm and soft, and she is instantly drawn to a fern that sways in the seasalt breeze. She is determined to pluck it from the ground, and with it, she brings roots and soil, nearly toppling over sideways under the weight of the seemingly glorious plant. 
Head held high, she waddles back to her brothers with a proud, toothy grin, and shoves the fern between them before dropping it at their feet. Look!