Stavanger Bay We're all we need

"Can they breathe underwater?" Wildfire wondered aloud, eyes still on the sea lion. It shifted slightly and she caught the wet luster of its brown pelt, which was sort of transfixing. She stopped tugging on her entrapped leg to admire it for a moment, deciding that gleam definitely cut down on the resemblance to a turd. She had never seen sparkly feces, in any case.

"Hey," she spoke up again after breaking the momentary spell, "mind giving me a hand, boo?" Wildfire was hopelessly tangled—the grass, though fine as angel hair, was very strong—and she looked at him, amber eyes imploring him.