Ankyra Sound And I'm not wearing trainers

mahler too had pulled himself onto the outcropping; he shook only the saltwater from his variegated pelt before turning his eyes on wylla. her tones held regret, but the man was more interested in how her slight frame shook, how her detailing brought to mind the vague outline of a hare. in a moment he had stolen closer, though not so near. 
it was the way of their kind to lend warmth, but mahler was unsure of how to offer this and did not want to mute a moment of interaction with his own oddity. and so he settled and began to lap saltwater from his forearms. through the musiker too shivers traveled, but he stilled them at their edges where he could. "i am interested in what the sea will feel like vhen it is spring," mahler murmured presently, lilac stare now trained on the dark expanse through which the pair must swim again.