Shimmering Sands the inner claims i hadn't breadth to shake

There was a sort of saying that had been made in regards to the lack of something. Many that spoke of greener grasses and wider pastures, but Amoxtli had found that he fell more into the lines of the thought: what you never knew you lost, you could not miss. For the children had been boisterous young things, and had managed to cause quite the ruckus in their household, the Tervuren could not recall having had a voice at all. In a sense, he could have been too young to recollect such things. He had lived so much of his life without the ability to speak, that he only imagined it was how he had been born. The light in his heart spoke to him and told him that he was lucky his sister had endured the same bizarre happenstance.
 
The inky girl was everything to him. She was the only friend and companion that he should need to cross the face of the earth. Without her at his side, he would have known a sadness much deeper than any he had ever endured. Amoxtli – ever the optimist – considered himself one of the luckiest creatures on earth to have had such an incredible partner and friend. The feather of her coat was like a sunrise to his vision, and her happy little rasps of air were far better than any story that had been shared with his ears. While Oxtli had a peculiar love for storytellers and the tales that they wove, he would have gladly given up on the sharing of their voices to have more time with Coelacanth. Her enthusiasm pushed him to be a better man himself. The eager way about her was enough to drive him to the very ends of the earth with a quick step and a shining twinkle in the fire of his gaze.
 
As the dark-coated sheepdog bounded forward with high stepping paws, he watched her with a smile on his doggish features. The ginger-dappled tail behind him flagged wildly with encouragement for his sister to discover whatever there was on the beachside and to return it to their pile so they could sift through the findings. Already, his sharp eye had caught sight of a beautifully smooth stone that glistened with the color of the moon. It had been washed down by the changing tide and had only shown itself because of the location of the water on that day, but such things only solidified the luck of the Tervuren male.
 
After prodding his nose around in the seaweed for other finds, Amoxtli lifted his head upward to make sure that his sibling was still in his sights. Should she wander off without warning him first, he would find himself incredibly anxious. The shadowy girl had crafted her own little pile of odds and ends, and he wiggled his lower half excitedly at her, leaving his prints in the sands beneath him. On his dark nose there was a small patch of beige where the granules had collected.