Wheeling Gull Isle only love myself no more

They had not been here long and they were so small. It was surprising how such little things could disrupt lives so much and how quickly which they did so. Malakai was happy more then ever that he was now old enough to venture around the outside of the birthing den. Any younger and he would of had to have been forced to keep inside with these little strangers every moment of the day and night. 

Even now, he rest outside the opening of the den. Laid out in the grasses, his eyes closed as he listened to the sound of crashing waves in the distance. On his lips he murmured a hymn, one which his mother and sister had sang time and time again.  

The stirring of another's approach disrupts his worship and his head lifts, hard on the coal-coated child of darkness. He looks to them and their milky white eye. Two of them were sickly. One of them with a blind eye and the last, a bloodied mark of cain upon her face. Children born of sin. And so, he now sang, as he moved to use his body in blocking their path. 

Weak and wounded sinner / Lost and left to die / O, raise your head, for love is passing by / Come to Jesus / Come to Jesus / Come to Jesus and live!