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

in religious households, revenge often came in goliath proportions. 

ava wanted the flower only - not the rebuke, not the wind, not the wailing thereafter. when dinah turned upon her and struck with a paw, she blindsided the girl whose gaze had been tracking the delightful flutter of flyaway lupine — 

brimstone fire smote her senses; her eyes welled as she was rocked face first into the hardened ground. the pure shock of such violence momentarily stunned her. 

for a moment it seemed ava might cry alongside dinah, but she didn’t. 

she rose from the dirt slowly, her gaze darkened by unshed tears. 

it did not matter ava was too small to mete out due justice. with a tiny war cry, ava came at dinah with her own brand of deliverance.