Sheepeater Cliff we made our homes in different places

In response to Liffey’s apology, Coelacanth vehemently and bashfully shook her head — she had been in the wrong, not the fiery-eyed female to whom Titmouse turned with such trust and affection! Quiet and unobtrusive, she shifted her posture to accommodate the situation: although she was still inherently and involuntarily apologetic for taking up space and interrupting the conversation, her tufted ears rose upon her skull like the first blossoms of spring, tentative and hopeful. They tipped toward the golden-eyed lamb as he began to speak anew, feathered tail sweeping gently behind her — but all too soon, the levity engendered by his tale melted away.

They had banished him from his home? A pained whine stirred in Seelie’s throat as she moved toward him, flattening her tiny body to the ground and touching her nose with featherlight delicacy to the curve of his paw. She whuffed softly before adopting a primly seated posture, distress swimming in her Neptune eyes and causing her hackles to flicker in an inky rushlight along her spine.

Once Titmouse had regained his composure, he surprised the little Groenendael once more — he was one of Constantine’s wolves! Tufted ears popped atop her elegantly sloping crown like inverted exclamation points, recognition causing her tail to whip with heightened swiftness against her hips. She believed that Constantine would care for Titmouse well, but just in case, she began making plans of her own. If the need ever arose, she would be more than happy to offer her island to the yearling as a sanctuary. Indeed, she still harbored a futile hope that he would want to stay!