Greatwater Lake the vagrant rover life

Although he had frightened her initially, the diminutive little stray now tolerated King’s approach seemingly without demur. She tucked her muzzle against the muddied silk of her décolletage, her once graceful neck peppered with the jagged spines of her unkempt fur, and tucked her spindly legs more tightly beneath her. All four paws were firmly on the ground, ready to carry her away if the need arose, but she was cornered in such a way that she believed escape was impossible. She accepted the pair’s presence as inevitable, though her red-rimmed Neptune eyes darted somewhat suspiciously between the two sets of legs.

The male kept talking. His voice was low and weighty with an emotion that Coelacanth would have rushed to assuage, but the creature she had become only heard the words. She was hungry. Saliva pooled in the divot beneath her tongue, but she swallowed it back before she could add “foaming at the mouth” to her already maddened countenance. “Are you?” asked the female, but the skeletal wraith merely tucked her nose more firmly against herself.

For reasons she couldn’t explain, an uncertain growl began ticking in the mute’s hollow throat — but it faded away after a beat, thinning out into an airy, uneven whine. Then it was her turn to steer the conversation, perhaps literally. Unprompted, she rose from a slump to a skulk and tipped her head to the side like a curious bird, looking from one wolf to the other. She didn’t really know why, but they were talking about leaving, and she had decided rather abruptly that if they were leaving, she would go, too.