Wheeling Gull Isle MMMbop!

Wild eyes search the steel foamed currents. The ice cold tides course through his fur, tumbling him backward even as his feet rake fiercely. she is down here! She is somewhere!

Suddenly his waist is enclosed with hands and he takes a liquid breath. Her name is screamed into the depths but it emerges only as guttural chokes.

He’s still reaching. His arms are empty. They go slack.

They’re too late.