Wheeling Gull Isle slow down, it’s a science.

they stand together in silence for what feels like a long while. his neck feels stiff after some time, but he doesn't want to remove his support, afraid she'll hit the ground again, afraid she'll make that awful noise with her teeth.

she makes another noise instead, though this one is at least welcome even as it reverberates through him.

he traces the line of her vibrating throat as he tilts his head back to see what she's howling at.

something worked through him. he copied her noisemaking first with a shaky, elongated squeal, which morphed into something more substantial the longer it went.