Ankyra Sound underneath the palm trees you can leave your worries

Arlo balks when she says no and he huffs with enough effort to impress a high school drama teacher. He snorts a beat later to blow it off as if she didn’t just insult him. He’s quiet for a long moment that it isn’t until she moves in his direction—sloppily, of course—that he acknowledges the question about what to do to fight all the sand. At first, he considers ignoring her and stomping off to stroke his pride but he stiffens and nonchalantly shrugs his shoulders.
 
When he turns away to the patch of grass between the trees, he gestures her over to see. “You just roll around until you get most of it off,” he tells her, a little deadpan than usual with a quirk of his brow. He kicks at the grass beneath his feet to rid his paws of the annoyance between his toes.