Totoka River waltzing the waves, diving the deep

Stockholm’s somber mood was not lost on the ink-etched empath, and for a moment she was assailed with a rush of guilt so thick her breath seemed suddenly to coalesce, lodging uncomfortably in her breast and stilling the desperately loving whine that hummed tunelessly in her throat. The Gampr’s longing was absorbed and adopted by his tenderhearted companion — and though the desiderata differed, the feeling was the same. The restless energy that always seemed to churn within Seelie’s noodly sheepdog limbs stilled as she melted against her protector, breathing in as he breathed out, feeling the warmth of his affection along the jackknife point of one tufted ear.

Coelacanth wasn’t prepared for Stockholm’s sudden evasive maneuver, and as he withdrew on paws that were surprisingly fleet for a beast his size, she toppled like a stack of poker chips knocked asunder by an overexuberant hand. The picture of beauty and grace, she dropped like a rock into the water with slim jaws flung wide in a soundless yelp of surprise, then flailed about in a whirlwind of wildly windmilling limbs to regain her footing. Tossing her head with indignation that was only half-feigned, she “glared” at the larger wolfdog with delirious love and just a touch of mischief swimming her Neptune eyes. A poor parody of a snarl shaped her dew-dappled muzzle as her own tail arched over her sloping spine and flagged the air. It wasn’t quite dancing, but her movements were innately balletic as she cavorted about, zooming in excited [and slightly anxiety-riddled] hairpin curves, but always, always looping back to get in Stockholm’s face.