The fog came in soft and sudden, sliding over Mossy Lantern Harbor like a giant white blanket pulled up too far. Pip, a fluffy gull chick with gray-white down, a yellow beak, and one slightly crooked foot, was already hopping along the wet planks near the end of the main pier, trying very hard to look useful.
He had told himself he could help before supper by keeping an eye on the boats. Cargo boats needed space. Fishing skiffs needed room to turn. Ferries needed a clear path. Pip knew that much. He had even puffed out his tiny chest and marched toward the harbor as if being small were just another way to be important.
Then the fog swallowed everything.
First it hid the far ropes. Then it hid the tops of the masts. Then it erased the docks until even the stone lantern at the end of the main pier seemed dim and far away. Brindle, the slim gray-brown gull with a neat dark stripe over one eye, stretched his neck and peered into the white. Mira, in her yellow raincoat and bright boots, leaned close to the railing and listened for the water.
Pip hopped once, then again, but he could not see the cargo boats, the fishing skiffs, or the ferries at all. The harbor that had felt busy and ordinary a moment ago now felt strangely empty and unsafe, as if the whole place had gone missing. Pip knew he needed to guide someone, somehow, but with the docks hidden and every sound muffled by the fog, he did not know where to begin.
He drew in a breath of damp white air and looked at the blank hush around him. If he was going to help, he would have to choose where to go first.
What happens next?
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