Wheeling Gull Isle in the summer of 07, i was sure i'd go to heaven

Caracal jerked awake from a dream where all his teeth had fallen out and he’d had to resort to drinking animals’ blood just to survive. He was exhausted, though he couldn’t fell back to sleep after that. He wiped at his face, then peered groggily around the den and noticed two of his children missing.

The older four were given pretty free reign to wander the island, though their parents preferred if one of the grownups kept an eye on them. And they weren’t supposed to go out late at night, regardless. Heart thumping worriedly in his chest, the exhausted father pushed onto his feet and exited the den.

He found Dinah and Simeon talking quietly on the former’s sunning rock, probably still warm after the hot June day. Caracal didn’t catch anything they said until he crept a little closer and overheard, “I don’t think mama and daddy love us anymore.”

That Dinah would think this even for a moment instantly broke her papa’s heart, tears pricking the corners of his eyes as he stood there in bereft, careworn shock.