Wheeling Gull Isle Look monsieur, where all the children play.

the rallying scream of blackwater rent the air. 

ava arrived with vengeance as her wings. the child’s mismatched gaze apprised the scene — first, her sister at john’s throat. then dinah’s sobbing figure in the dirt. 

it seemed that agony and discord must be her birthright. john flung ana aside. an audible crack sounded as her skull connected with sun-cured ground —

now came ava amara’s ruthless hour. she rose, eyes soulless as a shark, swinging with a bulldog’s toothsome fury towards the man that dared harm her sibling.