Stavanger Bay i've been trying to fix my pride

I wanted one too!

Coelacanth responded to his reappearance just as she faced most things: at first with a sense of fear, then with sweeping movements and a burst of energy. A contented rumble escaped his chest as the fine tapered maw rubbed against his own, thickset and stout – unsmiling as he was, his demeanor spoke that there was nothing to be sorry for. She was a free woman [an adult, young lady now!] and had the liberty to do whatever she pleased, just as he was wont to do. Didn’t mean he wouldn’t use his own freedom to follow her, though.

“Hm,” he grunted as she danced back to meet the red woman in the methodical tide. He cavorting sent up curtains of water; sheets that managed to rocket upwards to make impact with his unsuspecting face. The water was cold – perhaps the last vestige of the long-abated winter season – and he tried to shake and blink away the sudden onslaught of brine.  When his vision cleared, the earthstalker realized that he was the only one who wasn’t partaking in a swim, so he took several steps towards the waters until he was wading nearly a foot deep into the sea . He glanced from Coelacanth to Red, trying to scry from their faces whether or not his advances on their meeting was welcome or not. He didn’t want to infringe on their meeting, but his movement into the waters was more of a motion to establish himself as a permanent fixture in their conversation [albeit one-sided as it was], rather than to enjoy a nice swim.

He regarded Red, letting his eye drift over her frame as would any wolf meeting someone for the first time, but there was a certain strength in his unabashed gaze that read wild. A pretty little thing, she was – and the juxtaposition of the sheepdog’s dark plumage to the nameless woman’s russet blanket was, if anything, quite appealing to his discerning eye. ”Looks like you have a story,” he began, punctuating his statement with a distinctive notch of one eyebrow.  She was littered with scars – he considered such things badges of honor, the teller of stories, and he couldn’t help but let his barefaced curiosity take hold.