Wheeling Gull Isle I am the owner of nowhere land, queen of a castle that’s made of sand.

Dinah is enthralled. She senses some annoyance coming from her dear ol' Gramma as she explains the mystery paw language, which she now knows is called sign language. She says the word deaf, which admittedly, Dinah had never heard before. Tha's cool! I wanna learn how to do that! Her eyes widen as she watches the gestures, eagerly trying to decipher what it is she could possibly be saying when she is not at least mouthing along with it. Can you teach me?
She searches for the sound of bramble crunching, then, and with it she finds little darkling Ava.
The darklings had become more and more of a normal presence. Very rarely did she feel so egregious with her jealousy now, as the instinctual need for being responsible had begun to take hold. And right now, Ava needed help: she'd fallen! Oh! It's okay, I'll help you! Hobbling over on stilt-like legs, she presses her cold little nose into the scruff of Ava's flank. Now, she just had to figure out how to lift her up.