Wheeling Gull Isle we sing, “look at all this love we’ve found”

Now that the puppies were old enough to accompany the adults around the island, it changed everything for Caracal. He had already adored them, of course, but now they could go on adventures together! And that meant tiring them out much more easily, which meant better sleep for everyone. It was a win/win situation all around and his favorite phase of fatherhood so far.

They were growing like weeds too, which meant their personalities were really starting to shine. Caracal decided it was a good time to start bonding with them one-on-one to get a better idea of who they were as individuals. While the kids were eating lunch in the den this afternoon, he tried to decide which one to pick for the first foray. It was too hard to choose!

He knew @Judah probably wasn’t up for it just yet but he gathered four seashells anyway and found a smooth stone, all souvenirs @Dinah had brought back from the island’s shores. Caracal hid the stone beneath one of the shells, then shuffled them and placed them in a row. He then summoned @Simeon, @Malakai, Judah and Dinah, and dealt each of them a seashell.

Whoever finds the stone beneath their shell gets to go with me on a solo adventure today! The others will go with their mama, Caracal mentioned before any protests could arise, and you’ll each get a turn with papa another day. Now, turn ‘em over to see who our winner is today!

Papa would love some one-on-ones! This is private for whoever nabs it first, then I’ll make additional ones for the others over the coming days.

P.S. This post has a soundtrack!

SLAMS my fists on this post excitedly

The child still had red-pink stains on her mouth from lunch when Daddy called her and her brothers forth. She is greeted with an array of iridescent shells, all ones she herself had brought home as gifts, and the grin spreads like a vine up chubby little cheeks. 
She bounds over with a level of innocent glee only a pup her age could have, and being the polite sister she is, she waits for her siblings — as badly as she wanted to flip all of them over herself.  
Although, she would make a demand that ladies go first once the boys catch up. 

They shuffled forth excitedly (except maybe for Judah) and after a moment of chaos, each pup ended up with a shell. Because patience was a virtue, Caracal put a toe to his lips and waited for them to settle down before he took it upon himself to flip over each of the seashells.

We have a winner, winner, chicken Dinah! he crowed when Dinah’s shell overturned to reveal the small stone. Remember, Caracal said, raising his voice a little to discourage objections, you’ll each get a turn! The three of you will be with your mama this afternoon. You, he said, pointing a toe at his little girl and grinning, you’re with me.

He turned and swept from the den, striding a few yards before halting and looking over his shoulder. Caracal had no doubt Dinah would be frolicking along right behind him, eager to gather more treasure. It seemed fitting that she should be the first, considering how much she already loved going out, and that gave him an idea.

Your mission is this: find a gift for your mama and each of your brothers. Now, take the lead if you like. I’ll be right behind you.

When her shell was overturned to reveal the little pebble underneath, a squeal is made from the depths of tiny lungs before the little Redhawk does a happy dance, wriggling and bouncing up and down. She turns to her brothers with an excited, whiplash-inducing nod before loping after her Daddy. Adventure, adventure, adventure!

Up and out of the den they go, and it's not long before Dinah passes him, gladly accepting the offer of being the leader with a shout of Yay! The sandy dirt beneath her paws is a feeling she revels in, disappearing into a patch of huckleberries before coming out the other end with a wagging tail. Periodically, she glances back for her Daddy to make sure he's following, flopping into a play bow before dashing ahead.

With the sound of the roaring Pacific as her guide, she leads him to the beachside, slowing to a trudge once she reaches the sand. She had a mission; a task! She felt so grown-up, sticking out her chest before her nose falls to the ground, blowing sand out in front of her. She had to find the best-est gifts, had to, had to, had to!

It was probably terrible but Caracal was a tiny bit partial to Dinah. Maybe it was because she was his only daughter or perhaps it was the resemblance they shared, which was pretty narcissistic. Maybe it was both of those things combined with her zest for life. She was a little ray of sunshine and it made his heart want to explode right out of his chest with his love for his little girl.

Thank you, God, he whispered under his breath as he sashayed along behind her.

He kept an eye on Dinah but made no attempt to direct her, much as he considered himself the shepherd to her lamb. It delighted him to just let her run free and be herself, a wild child of God. His tail lifted and waved behind him as she eventually led him to the seaside, of course.

Do you want me to help you look? Or do you got this? he asked lightly, moving closer to Dinah now that they were near the surf.

She shakes her head no when she's asked if help is necessary. She never needs help! She is Dinah, master scavenger, expert beachcomber, supreme warrior woman!

And she's quick to go to town, too; beneath a Sitka spruce, she finds the lone alabaster feather of what must have belonged to a seagull, but instead, she exclaims, Daddy! Angel wing! with a pointed paw. She nabs it and places it at the start of her pile. She had decided it would be for Malakai!

Close to the shoreline, after digging beneath a gravel bed smoothed by the sea, she finds a hunk of petrified wood. Rings of russet that blend with cool grays; a little object much older than she could ever conjure. This would be for Simeon, because, in her words, it looks like him.

On a log that rests just beneath a rocky cliff, she finds the shell of a cicada, golden and translucent, a perfect sculpture of the creature it came from. This would be for Judah - she'd made a habit of bringing him live bugs, but for today, he gets the keepsake of one. It's carried while being balanced atop her nose so that her little teeth don't crush it.

For Mama, she finds a sand dollar when a wave pulls back and reveals it, nestled in the sand. Dunking it under the water, she has Daddy help her count the rounded points of the star at its center. It's a little heavy compared to her other finds, but she is gentle and patient.

And last but not least, her gift for Daddy: a conch shell, painted with sherbet and cream, and when she shows it to him, she proudly says it looks just like him, and names it Daddy Jr.

By the time her pile of five is complete and seated on the slanted surface of a rock to dry off in the sun, she is lazing beside her Daddy, nose pointed skyward and a Dinah-shaped print in the sand that she lays in. Belly warmed by the sun with her paws tucked close to her chest, she swivels to look at him. Daddy? she asks, with that typical tooth-rotting sweetness, who is God?

When she told him she had it handled, Caracal grinned and retreated, seating himself on the dry sand just beyond the tide’s reach. He kept a close eye on Dinah as she bustled along the beach, gathering trinkets for her loved ones. His little sweetheart began to form a pile on top of a stone smoothed by salt winds, so Caracal scooted to sit a little nearer to it, making curious noises at each addition she delivered.

It warmed his heart when she thought to include a gift for him. Caracal bent down to take a closer look at the conch, admiring its natural artistry. He wondered what made Dinah choose it for him but he didn’t ask, reveling in the precious mystery of her youthful choices. He thought she’d chosen well for each of her brothers and mother too.

They sprawled in the sand together for a while after that, Caracal tempted to pull her close to his chest while she was still small like this. But she was becoming a big girl now, so he didn’t infringe on her space. He just sat close, admiring her heart-shaped face; the reddish stripe between her beautiful blue eyes; her pale little tummy; and those impossibly dainty paws. He could kiss any of them for days.

She had a question for him, earning an inquisitive hum before he fell quiet to contemplate how to answer her in terms Dinah would understand.

Think of him as your sky daddy, he murmured. He’s our all-powerful creator and father of all things. He made everything: the sky, the sea, the island, us…

Sky Daddy? But you're my Daddy, she retorts, a pout to her lower lip. She thinks on it, and in her little head, she tries to imagine what God looks like.

She pictures a tall, omnipotent version of Daddy himself, with big cartoonish wings and a glowing golden halo. He sits on a bed of clouds, rosy hued and dreamy. She wished she could hang out with Him. That sounded fun!

And then, she thinks about how He made everything; Mama says that too, and she imagines He took His big, godly paws and rubbed them together, and with a wink, the Earth appeared in front of Him. Or maybe, He took a bunch of ingredients and put them in a soup! How did He make us? she says, then, one little paw outstretched to the clouds. and why?

These were big questions, not just for someone Dinah’s age but for anyone. Part of him wanted to tell her to ask her mother, since Heda was much more of an expert on these matters. But Caracal didn’t want to just deflect his child’s inquiries. He wanted to try his best to field them.

Mm, I think He made you out of a pinch of my fur, a sprinkle of your mama’s magic, a couple grains of sand, Caracal mused playfully, and then He filled you with honey, which is why you’re so full of sweetness.

That covered the “how,” but what about the “why”? He toed at his lip thoughtfully in between exchanging conspiratorial glances with his little lookalike.

I have no idea why on earth He’d make someone like me, he said teasingly, but I think He made you, your brothers and your mama simply because it’d make the world a better place.

I'm made of sand? is what she took from that, because of course that's what she'd think of, and her goofy little grin stretches wide until dimples form beneath saucer-shaped eyes. Cool! But, but, but, can I be, can I be made of the sea instead? she shifts to her feet and places her little paws on Daddy's shoulder. I wanna be the sea!

Hopping up and down again, she excitedly runs in one, two, three circles around the length of her father's form before finally flopping down beside him once more, this time on her belly. And from that little belly comes a giggle that erupts into full blown howls of laughter when she sees the flecks of sand that are embedded in the fluff of his chest.

When the answer to her why is given, her head tilts; a look of confusion, but not because of God, this time. Why would Daddy wonder why God made Him? He made you to be my Daddy, she answers matter-of-factly, prodding him with a paw and creating a tiny print of sand in the shape of it in the russet fibers of his pelt.

And when she's told she was put here to make the world a little better, she smiles extra hard at that. She wanted to make the world better, she did, she did, she did! YAAAAAAAAAA!

She disputed him and Caracal could only grin, slap himself upside the forehead and exclaim, You’re right!

He chortled at her enthusiastic antics and her insatiable curiosity alike. A moment ago, she had asked to be made of the sea. Caracal glanced at the surf lapping gently at the beach. He then bent over to nose Dinah back onto her feet.

Come with me, he said, the two of them leaving a matching set of paw prints across the dune.

When they reached the water’s edge, Caracal stopped and motioned for Dinah to halt too, just clear of the ebbing and flowing sea foam. He swept out a foreleg, indicating the splendor that was the sea, then pointed behind them. He nudged her to turn as he did, now spreading his legs wide as if to hug their island.

Rejoice, he said loudly, for this is the day the Lord has made!

He looked over at Dinah to see what she would do. While she was distracted, he spun back toward the water, dipping his paw into the shallows and flinging it over the little girl’s head and back.

I baptize you in the name of the Father, the Sun and the Holy Seagull, Caracal declared, adding, You are now part of the sea, Dinah Marina Redhawk!

Wobble, wobble, wobble, all the way to the seaside; when she's directed, she follows suit, twisting and contorting and trying to copy Daddy's movements. Which inevitably ends up with her toppling over and landing, luckily, on her butt. 
Daddy hugs the earth, and so she does too, except it looks more like a frog-legged flop. Rejoice!, he says, and so Dinah takes that as an invitation to woop, Yaaaaaaayyyyyy! before it devolves into a tangle of giggles. 
And then, when she tries to sit up, she's flicked with droplets of water. She is blessed, baptized with the waters of the holy sea itself - and maybe this would have had more significance if she was not immediately distracted by the full name that comes from his lips. Redhawk? she tilts her head, an amused lilt to her question. I thought I was Dinah.

You are, he replied, booping her gently on the snoot. We all have two names: a first one and a last one. Mine is Caracal Redhawk. Your mama’s is Heda Redhawk. If you’re super special, you also get a middle name, which is what I just gave you. Hence: Dinah Marina Redhawk!

He just really hoped his wife wouldn’t mind that he’d arbitrarily given their daughter a middle name. Caracal would definitely float it past her and then see if she wanted to give their sons ones too. He faintly remembered a conversation about them, though he could only recall two of the suggestions: Oakley and Willow.

Hey, are you ready to gather up your gifts and take them back to your mama and brothers? Caracal asked, happy to defer to Dinah’s timeline today.

last one from me <3333 thank you so much for the thread!!!! caracal and dinah are so dear to my heart

Oh! it came out in a burst of shock and slow realization. Firstly, the fact that Daddy had a name that was not Daddy, and secondly, that she had a whole secret name she had never heard before. But she is bravely accepting of such new information, and so she puffs out her chest with a wag to her little tail, and says: O-kay, Caracal Redhawk!

She gives the sea one last long glance before Caracal Redhawk asks her if she's ready to head home. And it felt as though right as he said that, her eyes grew droopy with drowsiness, and her lips part in a big yawn. She shuffles back to her little pile of gifts and tries to fit all of them on parts of her body: the petrified wood and the conch rest on the top of her head, the cicada shell goes back on the tip of her nose, the sand dollar is wrestled with until it sits on the space between her shoulders, and the feather is held between closed lips. She walks ever so slowly, a careful balancing act so that she does not lose any of them.

And when she reaches the den, she proudly assigns everyone their gift with a giant, toothy grin, the sand and saltwater that linger in her pelt acting as her own souvenir for herself. And surely, she would avoid Heda Redhawk's demands for a bath as long as she could.

And surely get sternly told off when she calls her Heda Redhawk to her face.