Falls of the Hinterlands Brightest Dark

Rewarded with the intimacy of touch, Coelacanth felt the clasp of loneliness that squeezed her heart constrict with a willful wrench before relaxing its grip; a soft thrum of sound like the flutter of a well beloved book’s pages spilled from her lips as the golden-eyed wolf began to sing anew. And although the sheepdog cross could not sing along in kind, she felt her tongue and lips begin to clumsily shape the words regardless, a beat behind the shale and sand female’s wandering timbre. What beautiful words they were! A low murmur of inquiry teased the fur at the base of the Depths female’s ear. Who or what is Tara, wondered Seelie, and why is she in need of rescue?

As the siren stretched her nose forward, tongue poking out to lick Coelacanth’s ear, the sheepdog trembled at the ticklish sensation — she was sensitive about her ears, and Amoxtli had learned at a young age that she wouldn’t tolerate any tugging — as a soundless laugh blew ripples on the water’s surface. “What big ears you have,” exclaimed the female, who possessed rather sizeable ones herself, and Coelacanth nodded her head in mute agreement. Playfully, the sheepdog cross offered her otherworldly companion a caress in turn, nosing once more at the base of her ear as though to say, “You, too!” Whuffing softly, her fur intermingling with the Mexican Wolf’s in the pool of water, Coelacanth felt true contentment steal over her.