Wheeling Gull Isle i’ve got the magic in me

all good with me!

He piles his paws atop his head and squeezes shut his eyes against Simmy’s persuasion and Dinny’s discovery, a low whine leaking out of a tightly sealed jaw.

Don’t like it. Like den. Can’t make me.

Why are they so eager to leave? And what if they couldn’t get back? His whine shifts into a blubbery howl, maybe if he’s persistent and loud enough everyone will come back and they can cuddle instead.