Sea Lion Shores this ain't no place for no hero.

The black dog in question, as though conjured by Julep’s mention of her, materialized with @Isengrim and @Moorhen in tow. She moved swiftly, fluidly over the sand she loved and halted beside the small girl who would one day surpass her in size, meeting the larger female’s hawklike gaze with intensely protective Neptune eyes. The inky ingénue could not be sure of this stranger’s intentions, and her uncertainty reflected itself in her waiflike musculature; her stance was an incongruent mix of defensiveness and vague submission, humming with potential energy, her fawnlike legs bent slightly at the elbows, carpi, and hocks while her feathered tail swept low and to the side. Urchin-like hackles lifted along her spine and shoulders, and for once, her pelagic gaze lacked its characteristic shyness. These were her lambs, and even though the master and mistress were gone from Coelacanth’s life, she’d sworn to protect the Three.

The little Groenendael lacked any sort of control over Isengrim and Julep — but she felt a particular sense of duty toward the more biddable Moorhen, whose self-enforced stillness and silence were both encouraging and daunting, endearing and alienating. It was between Moorhen and Akantha that she placed herself — partially because knowing the little tiger shark and her gunmetal barracuda brother, they’d bite her as soon as her back was turned — but she would willingly have given her life for any of them.