Stavanger Bay dispersal

Acknowledgement came in the form of two furtive mahogany eyes, and Coelacanth ceased her boneless wriggling, drawing back to look squarely at the little wolf with the hopeful doubt of a domesticated dog who isn’t quite sure whether you do have a treat in your closed fist. Her Neptune eyes were very bright, and the bulbs of her tufted ears cupped attentively forward as she drew a tremulous breath. In mingled eagerness and shyness, she belly-crawled the rest of the way to the silver-banded seashell, her tail whup-whup-whupping rapidly against her hocks as she ducked her head sheepishly and slicked back her ears. When she was near enough to touch, she made her attempt with infinite care; the whiskers of her muzzle sought to brush lightly against the little girl’s cheek, and if Moorhen allowed it, would be followed by the velveteen of Coelacanth’s lips and the leather of her quivering nares as she investigated the soft fur at the base of one oversized ear.

At any sign of rejection or aggression, Seelie was ready to abandon ship — but it never came.  For as long as the brindled coffee bean allowed it, her guardian curled around her and lavished affection upon her.