Totoka River waltzing the waves, diving the deep

Although Stockholm’s protective instinct preempted the sheepdog’s natural anxiousness almost before it could surge to the forefront, a ripple of nerves ran through her anyway, starting as an inquisitive quiver of her nose and shimmying down her spine in a quick shockwave of a full body tremor. She woofed softly, feathered tail whipping like a live wire as her tufted ears alternated between slicking submissively against her skull and popping forward in interest. Did Durnehviir want to play, too? Seelie was in the mood, now — and that sweet, “hello!” had sounded so friendly. She butted the bridge of her tapered muzzle against the Gampr’s burly shoulder and allowed her forelimbs to dance a quick tattoo while her gamine hips seemed to move of their own volition, arching skyward in a playful bow. Hey, bespoke the airy, toneless whine that huffed from her lips and the quivering of her brine-dappled whiskers, ask her if she wants to play, too!