The Sentinels this is the face i wear treading the riptide

She supplies him with the correct word, and he would try not to forget it-- surely it'd come in handy later on. When she lifts her paw, he presses his dry tongue to her paw pad-- ignoring it's saltiness. He licks upward and then backs up, putting his pink tongue back in his mouth and smacking it in hopes of wetting it again- it was similar to that of a puppy with peanut butter. 

"See!" he says to her after he's done, "All-- dry-- and... funny," he adds, his tiny tail wagging quickly behind him. It's possible she felt no difference in his tiny tongue, but that thought doesn't ever cross his mind.