Totoka River tomorrow will be kinder

In truth, the inky ingénue had begun to wonder whether she would ever see the russet-eyed wolf again. She held no malice toward him in spite of his unintentional abandonment; her forgiving, unassuming nature dictated that he’d left her side fully within his rights and for good reason. Perhaps he had his own Amoxtli to return to — she hoped so, for she could not imagine life without her flame-and-embers dragon of a brother — yet perhaps he had simply grown tired of her company. Indeed, there were things she would never know about Marbas, and she accepted this as an inevitable, irrefutable truth — just as she accepted the fact that there were things no wolf would ever know about her, no matter how ardently she wished to make them known.

The day was too warm to be comfortable on the sun-baked sands adjacent to the sea lions’ rocky shoals, and she turned inland to seek the solace of the river on catlike paws that danced to a more languid, legato articulation. The balmy, sea-driven breezes brought her no release — the indelible ink of her fur drank in heat and pressed it close against her pale, unsullied skin — but instead delivered a sudden metallic tang unto her tongue that gave her pause. It was not only the sea she scented, but…

Blood. Marbas?

The first was a certainty — the second, a prospect that wrought within the sheepdog cross a confusing welter of hope and dread. She pirouetted immediately, her dainty paws carrying her in a water-winged sprint to the charcoal-patterned wolf’s prone form — and she thought, at first glance, that he was dead. A toneless, frantic flutter of airy whimpers spilled from her throat as she approached him without reserve or hesitation — the heat from his body was surely not from the sun alone, for although he was surrounded by the coolness of seawater, the heavy-muscled shoulder she nosed was burning with heat from within. In a continuation of that innocent, thoughtless caress, she nosed upward to the ugly wound that marred the chocolate-colored tufts of fur that accentuated the masculine curve of his neck and licked at it. He was still breathing, she realized. She could aid him. She could help him to safety.

Please! Wake up!