Wheeling Gull Isle long in tooth and soul

“Abey!” He spouts, and it’s loud. And wet, a little spittle at the side of his mouth he smudges first with his shoulder before planting a sopping kiss on his brother’s head. There’s a tight squeeze before he releases the cub to crawl over to his front side. He likes looking at Abel. Abel is black and white and reminds him of Mal. He likes to trail the edge where the opposing colors meet with his eyes, and does so now. The complexity of his little brother’s plight entirely lost to Judah, who saw him only as a playmate at the moment.

“Abey wha do? Chase?” His head cocks, still for only a fleeting moment before diving into a stealthy crouch, “Guess wha! I gon be huntur! You bunny I be huntur.”

He growls and nips at the boy's paws, tugging on one little toe.