Wheeling Gull Isle take a backseat, or play pharaoh.

just outside the den shimmered an impossibly blue world.

it was all she saw now, in faces and shapes. a myriad of blues, indigos, incandescent cerulean —

in her eyes and in her toes, in every little thing she knows —

a navy shadow above causes her to stop at the den’s mouth. by scent and vibrations she recognizes it instinctively as @Judah. not quite other, but not quite sibling yet — but a shape she reached for all the same.