Wheeling Gull Isle your whole life is in the hands of God

She didn’t seem to notice him. Her paw traced lines in the sand, while the rest of her buckled in a tiny heap, so unlike the Dinah he knew. She was misery where she once was laughter. He had seen the way she drifted from the rest.

He tried to put himself in her paws, tried to imagine what she must be feeling — but his childhood had happened so long ago, and so different than the one the children of Sweetharbour shared. He wished his parents had trained their eyes in more than himself and Evander, but they hadn’t. They had been holy, after all. Chosen. Set apart from the world. Isolated. Alone.

Maybe that is why he noticed Dinah.

Hello, Dinah, he said, so as to not scare her. The waves struck the shoreline in a gentle cadence, and gulls wheeled overhead, are you looking for shells to bring back to your brothers?