Stavanger Bay you’ll be in my heart

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Szymon wasn’t aware of the idiom, but the upwelling of emotion invoked by his fierce little girl’s smile was so potent, his heart turned over in his chest. He bent, smoothing a gentle kiss between her oversized ears — Doe’s ears — and wondered how he’d ever thought it would be difficult to warm to her. Already she was such a perfect melding of the Cairn gene pool and Hind’s legacy, the ruddy fire of her pelt dilute where it skimmed in a sandy gradient down her sides and bold in the cape of dorsal fur and telltale rib cage markings. “We are going to visit the Sea today,” he told her gently, his sonorous bass timbre affectionate and husky. Julep had survived her Drop and received her spirit guide, but Szymon and Doe had nearly lost her in the process — he wasn’t sure how she felt about the Sea now, but there were things he needed to teach her.

“You don’t have to swim if you don’t want to,” he said, trying to be reassuring, “but while the weather is still warm, I want to show you some new things. Are you hungry?” He dipped his muzzle, poking at her plush flank to tickle her playfully. It was easier to rein in one cub at a time, he’d realized, so he began moving purposefully away from the den mouth lest they wake her barracuda of a brother.

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