Totoka River 그 안에 숨겨진 비밀을 알게된 것 같아

Generations upon generations of domesticated dogs in Seelie’s muddled pedigree bestowed upon her, in addition to her smaller stature and unusual appearance, the youthful naïveté and boundless optimism of a gently reared pet. She had known hardship in small, surmountable doses — but she had never had to set her teeth against another creature to protect someone or somewhere or something she loved. Her conscience was unsullied and her dreams were peaceful; and despite her moments of sorrow, she was generally a blithe and loving creature with little to no filter when it came to expressing these things. She laughed, a soundless rush of air from her smiling muzzle, when the water she’d flung spattered innocuously against Marbas’ stoic face; and when he hopped to his paws, his steely muscles snapping with a mercenary’s brisk efficiency, she bounded away — but swiftly swerved back to snap at the wave of water he threw toward her, spinning in it to kick her heels up in unabashed elation.

When Marbas spoke, ending his rhetorical question with a gruff bark of a laugh, Coelacanth turned to him eagerly — her sopping ears flicked droplets of water toward him as she attentively cupped them to catch the sound of his voice in this very moment. She would replay it in those moments she felt the old pain creep over her again, setting memories upon memories against the flaw she could never overcome until she felt whole again. She watched with pinpricks of water gathering on her lashes as the male dropped his posture to roll in the water, and barely resisted pouncing upon him — it would, she decided, be a poor decision to make no matter how soft and warm he looked. Backing away a pace, she waited until he peered at her, then attempted to repeat his action in her own style — rearing up, hopping briefly, and bringing the force of her forelimbs down into the water with a harmless plunk. It lacked the desired effect in that little to no water splashed forward onto Marbas — but she rather liked the sound it made anyway.

Watching him, she scampered a few yards away until she found a deeper section of the delta, submerging herself so that only the bump of her hips, shoulders, and head crested the surface. Then, rooting herself toward him on her stomach, she burst from the water with a toneless whuff! — the doggish equivalent to jumping out and yelling, “Boo!” — and shook her fur at him determinedly, trying to rain down a faint showering of water that had collected in her fur. It left her looking decidedly bedraggled, as though her fur had been shaped into a mass of elongated sea urchin quills, but the result was somehow as fitting as her kempt sleekness.