Wheeling Gull Isle not unlike the waves

The sheepdog watched her children congregate around the prize Stockholm had provided, unaware that matching such an evocative gift to the word “cookie” might prove confusing for the guppies in the future. Seelie and Stockholm had been raised among humans and had retained some words and phrases that would inevitably be assimilated into their entirely wild brood’s colloquial toolbox. For example, “bad dog” was the foulest of curses, the worst thing you could be called; and “good dog” was the highest of praise, the best of the best. For Coelacanth, “cookie” was synonymous with “thing that you get when you do something good” — but Koi’s young mind didn’t lend itself so readily to abstract concepts. “Cookie” very obviously meant “thing with wings that flies but is not a bug,” so, uh…conversations with the Seelholms are never going to be boring. This paragraph is a crock of dumbbutter. BASICALLY, SEELIE AND STOCKHOLM PROBABLY TALK WEIRD COMPARED TO ACTUAL WOLVES, BUT PLEASE PRETEND I SAID THIS ELOQUENTLY, OKAY? THANK YOU.

“Good girls, good boys,” the Aralez cooed in a breathy whisper, calling them lovingly by name. “Grayling, Sixgill, Koi, Treasure.” Poor Thresher. Seelie was never going to really be completely comfortable with the “th” consonant cluster.