Blackwater Islands take me into your loving arms

When the call rose, Whip had been inland. He had taken to the Thistlewood to wander and to be alone. However, he was still near enough to arrive in a timely manner, as he had only been wandering the southernmost reaches of the forest. Yet, for a moment Whip stood fast in hesitatation. The muscles in his chest clenched and he felt a fresh wave of fear crash over him as if her were caught in the undertow. The voice belonged to Kalika, who had recently threatened to take Whip's life should he not keep her happy. A small, frail internal voice told Whip to hide -- to make himself both scarce and small -- but he knew he need answer, lest she turn her anger to him again.

Reluctantly, Whip would do whatever was necessary to keep Kalika happy, thus ensuring his own survival.

When he made his way to the beach, Whip would not look directly at her. He kept his head down, gaze directed at the tide pool at Kalika's forepaws. He approached at a pace that was both slow and methodical. She was a gamble. A coin flip. As always, Whip did not know what to expect of her.