Cerulean Cape ghost; is what they call you

kovas thinks to warn her in the seconds in which a particularly determined crab's claws make to reach for her snout but by the time he summons the low rumble of his voice to his throat it has already latched on with a soft noise of it pinching close upon her flesh. his words die in his throat; discarded and no longer needed the behemoth instead, very briefly, grapples between amusement and sympathy. though he tempers the laugh that threatens to bubble and escape he snickers instead. it's not an amusing situation except that it is. he supposes that her current predicament is, partially, his own fault and moves away from his tide pool with the intent of offering some sort of aid as she attempts to shake it free.

he is not a coastal wolf by any means and is not overly familiar with sea life other than what he likes the taste of but still; he feels an obligation to try to assist. "hold still." kovas doesn't necessarily mean for his words to come out sounding quite like a command, as they undoubtedly had, but he is naturally brash and candid and in lieu of laughing it seems to be the lesser of two evils. "keep the crab touching the ground. it should let go of you." at least, it only made sense to him that flailing about would merely cause it to tighten it's hold as it then clings to keep itself from falling.