Falls of the Hinterlands Brightest Dark

“Hail.”

Pirouetting neatly, Coelacanth peered into the darkness and saw — two eyes, glowing and yellow; two swiveling ears, one bent and one pointed; one nose, black and twitching. Dipping her muzzle graciously, allowing her chin to sweep the angular curve of her carpi, the sheepdog cross tilted her head to the side, tufted ears cupping forward attentively. She dropped carefully to creep forward on her stomach as the dandelion fluff and cream female rose from the water and stepped nearer. A soft whine that was more air than tone spilled from her jaws in silent greeting as her feathered tail waved eloquent friendliness.

As the stranger breathed deeply, Coelacanth mirrored the action, her whiskers quivering as she took in the small wolf’s scent. The stranger smelled of salt — and as it had reassured Doe, so too did it reassure Seelie. They shared a common thread, although Coelacanth had never set foot in the bay now claimed by the wolves of Blackrock Depths.

“You can come in,” the female invited, shifting to allow room for Coelacanth to sidle in beside her. The tiny sheepwolf needed no other invitation. On her tiptoes, she crept nearer, sliding into the forest pool beside the other wolf with a purring hum of pleasure. Glancing out at the world Doe had enjoyed mere moments ago, Coelacanth sighed her contentment. It was beautiful, dancing with color and shrouded in mist. Her tail swayed behind her like the tip of an inkbrush, causing a soft ripple in the water. Without stopping to think of the consequences, she turned her head, intending to brush her muzzle in a tender nuzzle against the base of the female’s ear in gratitude for showing her this beautiful new world.