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

ava fancied herself concealed in between bouquets of soft white petals. she watched towhee’s paws as they moved in their own secret rhythm — a charming finger-spell come to life. 

she sensed none of towhee’s annoyance, too enthralled by how each paw perfectly articulated a hidden meaning. 

a brace of something cold pressed against her shoulders. ava recoiled with a loud squeal, turning her belly instinctively towards dinah. when she realized it was dinah’s nose that had been the source of such discomfort she quickly righted herself, sending a sulky nip in dinah’s direction that possessed no hope of connection.