Coconut Grove Your anger is frightening the sand

The precocious child remained calm and benevolent in the face of Peregrine's stubbornness. She spoke reasonably and every word out of her mouth reminded him of Taltos. She was like the perfect mixture of her parents, actually; she had her mother's generous heart and sweet bedside manner, clearly, and her father's well-spoken intellect. The swarthy wolf sighed, reluctantly admitting that she was right, of course, and that he would never make it back to his family without the help already given, as well as the future assistance promised by her invitation into Donnelaith.

He tried to apologize with his eyes, then he took a step toward her. He bobbed his head mutely, then tried more words. "Sss gggo." Let's go, he tried to clarify with his facial expression, still partly convinced his face wasn't cooperating the way it should. His cheek muscles felt as strange as his lips and tongue had moments ago, though they were also recovering some of their feeling now too. "Tooo L'sherrr." Yes, it was painstaking but Peregrine was slowly but surely regaining his faculties.

Still, he felt and looked like someone under the influence of some sort of heavy medication. Everything about him was downright dopey as he took a few more unsteady steps. He tried to position himself even with Deirdre's svelte white shoulder and instead swayed heavily into her, his muzzle knocking into the side of her neck even as he hissed out, "Mmmmmf, s'rrryyy."