Wheeling Gull Isle ii. moondust

Worry for the girl swirled in Coelacanth’s eyes. She met Moorhen’s gaze with a steady current of trust and understanding, and turned her attention back to the weak little ghost as a stab of anguish creased her delicate facial features in a visible flinch. She had found Aditya this way —

— no! —

— and before that, Komodo had found her this way —

— no! —

“Good lamb,” breathed the sheepdog, raining kisses on her lamb’s crown.

Coelacanth had triaged the wayfaring threesome to the best of her ability. It was clear to her that the weakened and ill-used guppy was in the most critical condition; but she worried too about the pale, inkblotted babe who sheltered so quietly in her mother’s shadow. Unfortunately, her clinical eye made the raven — her onetime friend! — dead last on her list of immediate priorities as a fully grown, full-blooded wolf in her prime. It was the nervous, beseeching whine that finally clued Seelie in to the sandstone-and-onyx female’s need for reassurance and care.

Coelacanth’s greeting toward Reigi, when it came, was threaded through with an apologetic air — a sort of, “Sorry about that! How have you been?” She did not think to be cautious or ask permission before approaching, her lips and nose tracing the lean, athletic lines of the raven’s silhouette. She seemed healthy, if anxious, and the Aralez snuffled as comfortingly as she could. Trotting a few steps away, she “barked” — but the motion bore no accompanying soundtrack. “Come with me,” she begged with a dip of her forequarters into an elegant bow, an inquisitive tilt of her head. She hopped backward a few paces, then swept in and between, her sprightly sheepdog paws cutting an illustrative circle around Reigi and Yakone. “You and you, follow me!”

A wheedling whine danced upon her lips. “Please?”