Wheeling Gull Isle Life’s a beach.

Oh, Junior was angry. She didn’t speak, Sable didn’t think she could, but if she could, Sable imagined her words would be a dark maroon. He shuffled over to her side to press his shoulder to hers, a silent support for his silent sister.

He looked up at his mother as she began to speak, the rhythm of her paws pressing comfort into his ears. Sable pressed a little closer to Junior, as if silently promising to uphold her decision. Then, he began to sign, slow, as if he was thinking it over even as he signed it.

-I like it here. But I liked the mountain.- He shot Junior a look, then went back to his mother.

-I follow Junior. Where she goes, I go.-