Whitefish River i only wake up from a nightmare after i die

<3

Just as her fear was beginning to ebb and a warmness began seeping back into her bones, a faint scent of seasalt intruded her nose and thoughts. She swung around, watching warily as a male trotted in her direction, carrying the faded scent of the ocean on his dark-spined coat. A shiver traveled through her, and Diane's trepidation was renewed; though she was not quite energized enough to go streaking in fright from him just yet. 

She didn't know him, but he could only be here for one thing.

Something nice came from his finely set muzzle, and though his friendly tone had registered with her, the words had not. She was watching his mouth, wide-eyed and suspicious, as if she thought something more dangerous than his teeth might pop out of it. She didn't say anything at first, and she didn't meet his eye. In fact, her eyes—the gold color of an aged sun—seemed to be looking for an exit.

She eked out a small breath, as if she had been holding it. "H-Have you come to take me back to.. to it? I'm sorry—I-I.. I didn't know what else to do but run..."