Otatso Wetlands ii. pain and guilt

The injured female bathed Coelacanth’s cheek and chin in kisses, eliciting a response that could loosely be interpreted as the canid version of scuffing one’s boot and muttering, “aww, shucks.” Tufted ears tipped forward in surprise, then folded shyly; slim muzzle parted on a half-yawn, and Seelie whuffed away the gratitude, tossing the snow from her fur with a brisk shake.

The scruff wounds weren’t terrible but the fur and blood had matted together to form a thick scab. Not many creatures enjoyed having scabs ripped off them, in the Groenendael’s experience. She sluiced the wound with snowmelt and nibbled experimentally at the fur around it, but the bruised flesh quaked and shuddered spasmodically. It was still too tender, so she continued methodically packing snow against the girl’s nape. It would be some time before she tried again.