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

she’d watched dinah in the thoughtful manner of a predator, ready to recoil if her older sister delivered biblical vengeance. the only punishment came in the form of a scolding; ava’s lengthy riposte was a single, eloquent grumble.

they were tasked to collect flowers. nudged by her sister, ava glanced to the tall stalks she’d just hidden in moments before. 

there was little hope someone as thick as her could learn ptero’s lingo, but on towhee’s encouragement ava set upon the flowerbed with toothsome vigor.