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

three bodies hurled against one; dinah wedged between them, then she and ava too were flung. 

the man took off in a storm of sand. 

all of ava’s senses had been churning in biblical fury; only now was she aware of the thundering growl which flowed uninterrupted from her throat like a causeway’s pounding surf. 

ana reached for her and ava turned, burying herself into her sister’s ruff. her gaze passed possessively from ana to dinah, who barring the tears that wet her face appeared unscathed. 

ava’s blood pounded ruthlessly against her skull. adrenaline spiked its feverish course through her body, every nerve frenzied and alive — and still came that endless growl, rolling and reverberating between the three of them as she stood hunched over them slavering and unsettled.