Wheeling Gull Isle snake eyed with a sly smile.

flowers. their stiff petals bobbed in the recess of her mind — the angry sneer of her sister looming close —

ava felt her little arm pulled away from her cheek. she looked up to the bright red of her father — surely the selfsame red that scarred her face — and saw in his concerned gaze a reflection. 

her reflection; the same face that had stared back in the stillwaters of the salt flats. 

but then I t wasn’t her face, it wasn’t her eyes. the moment she noticed the lurker in those peerless pools was the moment it vanished. she frowned, unable to conjure into any understandable speech what she’d seen. 

what was wrong? how could she answer? 

ava raised her paw again, this time to wipe away a tear that had halted its progress halfway down her round face.