Wheeling Gull Isle heart made of glass, my mind of stone

Driftwood saw the female jerk back in surprise, and shrank back uncertainly himself in turn. He stared at her with big, round eyes and one paw raised apprehensively. Okay, so maybe he had overstepped his welcome—vague half-formed plans to make as unobtrusive an escape as possible began to flit through his head.

But even as he caught his breath and froze in hasty recalculation, the girl seemed to thaw upon reconsidering his words. His ears perked at her whine, but the expected reply did not issue from her lips. His front paw wavered back down to the sand, but he otherwise stood there as stiff and unresponsive as a statue, save for the slight turning of his head and the riveting of his eyeballs to her boldly nosing him over. Driftwood caught his tongue indecisively between his teeth, still staring, but as the stranger seemingly decided that he had passed whatever test had caused her to surge forth and invade his space Drift too began to relax. His tailtip revived and began to wiggle its way slightly upward, and his hair follicles too relaxed their guard. There was still apprehension in his face, but also a dawning hopeful friendliness which came to dominate at her curious yip. He offered a low, huffing woof in return as he stuck his nose out a bit further in order to inhale deeply and try to get a better taste of her scent. His foreleg remained tense and uncertain, but ventured a bit of boldness of its own in return, as it lifted back up and poked inquiringly at the air between them, while still deliberately not quite making contact. It was only after he shoved the thing at her that Driftwood noticed the crust of wet sand that clung to his paw—whoops. Not that the wet nosetrail reverse-mohawked down his furry side was likely doing his appearance any favors either, just in case this lady had any overly-optimistic ideas about his refinement and poise. His nicked eartip drooped over in her direction too now, to complete the picture.

A bit embarrassed, he scraped the sandy paw surreptitiously against his other foreleg, glancing sidelong at the strange coat this female wore. He'd never seen a coloration or texture quite like hers...he didn't think. Though perhaps that was just another thing he'd forgotten. Driftwood suppressed a sigh, and gave himself a sudden quick shake to keep himself from dwelling on anysuch things. He looked again at the strange female and offered her a widening grin with only a small hint of lingering tentativeness.