Wheeling Gull Isle Ocean was your lover’s name

Despite his audible protests, the stranger did not leave. Rather, she came closer and surrounded him, an action against which the child squirmed and whined louder. That the woman’s scent was familiar meant nothing to him—all that mattered was that she wasn’t the Milk Giver, she wasn’t the one he wanted comfort from. Flailing his little legs, his whines eventually became shrill shrieks, forceful enough to hurt his throat—which, of course, only made him cry harder. And, in an effort to make his feelings known, the boy began chomping wildly and aimlessly at anything he could grab; simple milk teeth or not, he was ready to put them to use!