Cerulean Cape across the delta

The black-masked desperado called out to Coelacanth, and although she could not claim fluency in the language, she understood. A plume of smoke snaked from her lips as she offered a soft whuff in answer, and her weary paws regained a measure of their former sprightliness as she danced forward a pace. The time she’d spent alone had taken its toll on the sensitive empath — she was desperate for companionship on any level, and the warm, rich sound of the ruddy wolf’s voice drew her as soundly as a siren’s song. Her Neptune eyes, lucent and open, locked with uncharacteristic boldness on the bandit’s — but as she drew nearer, memory of the Keeper superimposed itself on the unknown wolf’s face. Sudden indecision flickered over her delicate features as she stopped in her tracks, her movements sharp and wild as the hope in her eyes was swallowed up by distrust — and before he could speak again and snare her with the honeyed temptation of his affections, the inkdark sheepdog wheeled and fled, winging southward toward her beloved river.