Totoka River reefed

The sour taste lingering on her tongue from her retching—no doubt exaggerated by her constantly thinking about it—wasn't likely to go anywhere soon, but the offer of water that didn't smell like Satan's asshole heartily rimmed with salt was very welcome. It wouldn't take away her disgust with the otherwise refreshing sea air, but Celephais abruptly felt certain that water would help. If nothing else, it would give her something to throw up if she gagged again. It had to be better than dry heaving until she expelled her organs.

The woman wondered momentarily if that was possible and decided not to think about it any further. The imagery was liable to make her throw up for real.

She tottered along beside the pretty coast dweller, vaguely aware that the other was not only older than she, but much more mature as well. Catori had a matronly air about her that Celephais had never enjoyed from her own mother, and that alone helped to quell some of her nausea. They crossed the natural boundary between shoreline and coastal forest. The moment her paws registered firm, rich loam beneath her toes, she felt steadier, and crawled to the ground with a ululating cry of gratitude. The sand may as well have been the rolling sea itself under her feet, and the foliage seemed to absorb some of the salt smell so that it was bearable even when it gusted. The moist smell of earth and decay took its place, and Celephais felt instantly at home.

"Thank you," she whispered hoarsely as she twisted her head around to fix a watery light blue eye on the she-wolf whose mane veritably blazed in the shadowy forest. It was beyond comical. Celephais' relief was exaggerated a hundred times over so that the whole affair was one poor drama act worthy of an eye roll, but to her, it was so real she felt like she could faint. Her stomach still rolled though and the promise of water was still a major temptation, so she eventually dragged herself to her feet and attempted to suss out the stream's location.