Totoka River krebs cycle

The lithe, supple creature turned, and her bright blue eyes were startlingly keen as they looked upon Coelacanth; one hind paw shifted backward as the skittish sheepdog cross involuntarily made to flee. Her wounded heart took up a thready galloping — but the stranger’s expression was one of delight rather than offense, and Coelacanth swayed briefly before remaining where she stood. At this closer vantage point, she could see that the smoke-gray of the girl’s fur was shot through with tendrils of coal, white, and cinnamon — and her fur bore an interesting mixture of greenery and flowers. She was quite similar to Atoll, but her manner was different; her way of speaking was plain and earnest, and she did not sing of Tara or Riverbone. Still, she seemed pleasant — and Seelie was so lonely. Tipping her head to the side in frank curiosity, her cerulean eyes glimmering with the first frail signs of a smile, Coelacanth unwound her ink-feathered tail from its nervous coil around her hock.

“Hello!” piped the stranger, her tail whipping wildly behind her. Her joy was infectious; the inky ingénue found her own tail swaying into a slow wave that quickened in pace the more the other spoke. Without being able to verbally respond, Seelie dipped her muzzle low and offered a soft, airy whuff of answering greeting — and then her streamlined muzzle formed an “o” of surprise. “Are you part dog? You are so very beautiful, but you do not look like most wolves I met.” It was the first time her parentage had been correctly guessed at in these wild lands, and it swelled the Corten girl’s heart with a gratefulness she could put no name to. Vigorously she nodded, venturing a pace or two closer, her expression touched with an answering query. Her tufted ears fanned back against her skull, then sprang forward to cup attentively as she offered a toneless whine of inquiry. Suiting action to the words she could not speak, she tilted her head first to one side, then the other. And what are you?