Wheeling Gull Isle still cutting shapes

Click click click;

Caracal had company. Anathema trailed him at an idle pace, clicking away but making no effort to reach for her adoptive father's attention. It took some time for her to catch up to him at all; she'd been slow to notice his departure and slower to follow, sluggish under the day's warmth.

She wandered up to stare at him where he'd stopped, cocking her head to one side and clicking inquisitively. What was he doing up there?