Wheeling Gull Isle Eulogy

The boy was weakened, bled of a will that instead suffused within his mirrored half. God’s proclamations conferred upon his brother’s tongue, and when God went silent, Malakai spoke His potent words.

God; Malakai; speaking divine laws as strong as the ocean’s current, pulling all things great and small toward the heart of the world, and Judah along with it.

Redhawks only ever left the isle in disgrace. He feared the mainland and the type of person he would be so far from his island; so far from God’s voice. But Judah would not dare ask aloud for Mal’s company, fearing more to be pinned beneath his twin’s disfavor.

A muscle in his jaw clenches. The boy rights himself and nods stiffly, avoiding the identical two-toned gaze, instead focusing on the slow dance of petals upon Towhee’s grave. His head bows, eyes squeezing shut over the threat of more tears.

“She is safe, with dad.” Judah presses close, ears leveling, cold nose nuzzling into the cheek of his brother. “I will return to you, Malakai.”