Wheeling Gull Isle Hurry up tomorrow

A man’s voice rasps.

The cub flinches and coils tighter, smearing an arm up over his head to reveal one impossibly-wide silver eye.

It is a wolfman, and not a monster, who has pushed through the reedy wall of the hideout. Preciously slow, Judah untangles his limbs and wavers into a stand.

“I’m n-not scared!” He insists loudly! His limbs rattle.

He stares at the tall stranger, still much too wary to acknowledge the compliment, but glances about the little earthen dome that was to be Ava’s refuge.

“It’s for my baby sister,” he explains, “we’re going to live here.” And then with the terrified realization that this man could tattle on him he takes a stubborn stride forward, little paw striking the sand for emphasis.

“It’s a secret! You can’t tell no one!”