Sea Lion Shores 1957

The older female’s olive green eyes focused on Coelacanth’s with blistering intensity, and the tiny sheepdog averted her Neptune gaze with an anxious flutter of her ink-feathered tail. She had never seen Hind’s daughter so deeply distraught, and her empath’s heart turned over painfully in her chest as she watched the odd-eared wolf limp heavily away. It pained her to be ignored, though she was bolstered somewhat by the fact that her offering had been accepted — and when Doe’s mate took his leave shortly thereafter, Seelie remained where she was. Shyly, still eager to appease but made skittish by Szymon’s reprimands and Doe’s stricken state and the heather-winged dove’s palpable distress, Coelacanth kept her tufted ears tucked firmly against her finely-crafted skull as her sumi-e brush tail beat a furious tattoo against the frozen ground. Now and again she slanted a timorous glance toward the Teaghlaigh she-wolf, and a soft and plaintive whine, airy and toneless, danced upon her lips. She had not meant to cause any offense.