Totoka River waltzing the waves, diving the deep

Please let @Stockholm post first ~

Leaving the island behind was, for the foreseeable future, unavoidable — and in a way, this made it easier for the tiny dancer to nestle in the hallowed shadow of her great protector and strike out for the mainland. It was a question of survival. For days after Stockholm had broken the news of Doe’s passing to the atramentous sylph, Doe’s Shadow had burrowed into the forlorn clot of earth that still smelled poignantly of its erstwhile occupant — spice and salt and sorrow. That Doe’s scent — whether truly discernible or simply remembered fondly — was overwritten with a fine-spun web of decay was something Coelacanth found devastating, but still she would not leave it, until finally Stockholm’s stalwart presence pressed through the grief and pulled her out from beneath its morass.

Now, as they approached the glassy chain of mirrorlike pools where salt met sweet, Seelie paused. One dainty forepaw traced an uncertain step, melting the frost beneath it. The water here was still too warm to freeze over, but the chill in the air was evident in the rime-limned grasses. It was like walking into a memory, and her tufted ears twisted upon her head as though she could still hear Marbas somewhere — but she had made her peace with the loss of the leonine wolf, and his disappearance could be written tidily away with a hopeful happy end, unlike dear Doe. Hesitantly she turned to Stockholm, her paws restless and stirring up sand as she bounded a few steps forward and kicked up the brackish delta water. For a moment it seemed she’d forgotten what they were looking for or why they were here — but most importantly, she’d forgotten how to dance.

She turned, craning her neck to look over her ink-feathered shoulder at the Gampr, and offered the timorous two-“note” whine that she used as a summons for him. She had loved this river once, and its brilliant, lonely deltas — but at this uneasy reunion her driving emotion was uncertainty that bade her to smash her tiny body against his broad breast, hips curving away from him and finely-sculpted head tilting back desperately so the whalebone white of her eyes glinted like twin moons. “Love me?” she begged, seeking his reassurance in her typically doggish manner, wet tail whipping damply against her hocks and trailing like cuttlefish ink beneath the surface.