Dragoncrest Cliffs he has the holy fire of the gods within him

When Silkie attempted to return the favor, Bat didn't put up much of a fight. She deserved a little smush, after all, and anyway, she had no interest in defending herself. She wanted to get as wet as possible. It didn't hurt that flopping in the water also happened to be the path of least resistance.

She let him dunk and splash her for a few minutes before rolling onto her back—her favorite position of all time—and letting out a happy sigh. She could lay here, wallowing in this puddle, forevermore. It was Bat's happy place. She didn't even mind the gentle sloshing of Silkie's movements.

But eventually their mother's face appeared upside down overhead. The Goufa grinned up at her. "Hi, mama."

"Hello, Bat. Let's get you out of the wet before you turn into a prune. Come on. You too, Silkie," their dam instructed, stepping back to make room for the pups to clamber out of the water and shake themselves dry.

Bat did as she was told, reluctantly and slowly, and stood there as Wildfire insisted upon drying her fur with her tongue. As it stroked over her body, she oozed to the ground in a boneless puddle. She kept her eyes open long enough to grin at Silkie in a companionable sort of way—funny how he'd gotten his bath, after all—before the Goufa succumbed to her usual state: asleep.