Wheeling Gull Isle Damselfish

he hiccuped a little at that, folding against the shoreline as if it held all the response he needed to make at this time. his mind collided with itself, conjuring the little face which was surely not so little any longer.
blossom wouldn't even know him, lestan thought in despair, screwing his eyes shut against the sunglare and the understanding voice of his companion; the mayfair leaned sideways and tucked his crown against the outside of that folded haunch, and tried desperately to be something like strong, even its illusion, just for a moment.
"all right. l-let's go."