Sea Lion Shores What immortal hand or eye

Had Coelacanth been able to read minds, she would have been shocked and surprised by Niamh’s thoughts; while Niamh envied Coelacanth’s frail susurrus, Coelacanth envied Niamh’s quick wit and golden brightness. Not once did the sheepdog find her companion’s voice or manner brash or forced — just vivacious and joyful. “Sealionacanth,” Niamh said, and Coelacanth shyly laughed, her feathered tail stirring up a miniature sandstorm as she flopped over onto her side with her spine against Niamh’s flank, then rolled, wriggling, onto her back to look up at the female.

“Niamh home — where?” she whispered, wondering if perhaps she could take the blonde beachcomber home with her. In this precious, encapsulated space and time, she could forget about her interactions with Komodo and her worry about Catori — she thought, perhaps selfishly, only of how good it felt to have met such a kind new friend. She was buoyed by `Io’s successful recruitment of Rokig and forgot completely about the failure to recruit Titmouse, not once, but twice.