Sea Lion Shores 1957

"Sy?" Doe asked, lifting her head at the sound of her husband's anger. Faintly, her tail beat the ground, for his anger was her champion and never her adversary. Warmth began to flood into her heart, though it did not yet reach her outer extremities.

Blindly, she searched for her mate, ears twisting toward the sound of his voice, leaning unconsciously toward the rumble of his growls. There was still greying around the edges of her vision, still a ringing loud in her ears. Her limbs were either missing or made out of lead, or perhaps they were made out of air. Doe couldn't tell. Everything was so fuzzy, so confusing. She didn't know what to do.