Totoka River compose a poem, an honest verse of longing

There was a spellbinding quality to Olive’s meandering alto that might have acted as a soporific if it wasn’t for the intensity that colored and warmed her rich, feminine timbre. Coelacanth’s knowledge of the stars, though far from rudimentary, was practical rather than supernatural; she used them as her ancestors did, relying on the glittering tapestry as a navigational aid. Kailani in particular possessed a certain predilection for stargazing, and the stories and songs she’d passed on to her tiny, tuft-eared niece ensured that the little Groenendael held the celestial bodies’ utility and mythos in equal reverence.

That being said, gleaning advice and making predictions based upon the alignment of the heavens was an entirely foreign concept to Seelie, and bewilderment was writ upon her delicate features as she tipped her head first to one side, then the other. An airy whine stirred in her throat but clung breathlessly to her lips as she tried to make sense of what she was being told. She had expected a story — something that would draw her mind away from her lonely, wayward existence — but where Olive found enlightenment and illumination, Coelacanth got lost in the shadows. It was not skepticism but confusion that glimmered in her Neptune eyes, and even after Olive explained herself, citing the prophecy as neither a story nor concrete advice, Seelie couldn’t wrap her head around the information she’d been given.

Life was rarely boring for the anxious stray, and the ancient rhythm of storm and calm was familiar to her, but what Carina clung to was the promise of “great and profound partnerships.” She was tired of silence and tired of reflecting — she wanted sound and solace and companionship, and she was beginning to worry that she would not find any of them here in the Teekons. Her cerulean gaze met Olive’s eau-de-nil one with all the melancholy and loneliness she owned shimmering therein, and she nodded as her eyes turned skyward, seeking out Kalb al-Ra’i — a star with which she was intimately familiar. Her star. A shy little smile parted her muzzle, coral blush tongue poking playfully between the spires of her canines. The Arabic kalb, though occasionally erroneously translated to mean dog, in actuality indicated heart — a play on words that Kirynnae and Kailani delighted in, for Seelie’s sweet nature and loyal devotion suited both interpretations.