Whitefish River some sad singers, they just play tragic

The man’s name for Carina was politely acknowledged and Olive mused upon how pretty the sound was. Coelacanth, she rolled the sounds upon her tongue, appreciating the mouthfeel of it — the gravity of the word [the fact that it was not just a moniker, but her god-given name], however, was lost upon her. Her friend’s newfound voice was still quite unknown to the pale druid, so Olive nodded politely and made note of the pretty name and how she might want to try it out, later on. “Olive,” the shewolf returned his introduction with an unknowing smile and  swish of her tail. Then they fished, Olive half-heartedly, and dispatched the trout, split the gourd and the fruit and settled in to enjoy their small feast, complete with cocktails and everything.

The sheepdog bid her to eat, and though Olive lowered her muzzle to the pale flesh betwixt her forelimbs, her gaze lingered upon the Coelacanth and the girl’s [apparent] lover. Her eyes followed Coelacanth’s salmon-pink tongue as it traced the brute’s jawline and let her attentions linger for a moment too long — it was hard to look at, but still she could not look away, for it was something so similar to the love she once had… had once lost. Perhaps the sheepdog would be luckier in love than she, and Olive hoped that Seelie might find a happy marriage with a husband who loved her — not one who simply loved being in love. So Olive hoped, and she did so with a small stabbing feeling inside her chest. That’s what friends do, right?

As she nibbled upon the sweet spread that lay before her, the sylph was quick to notice the effects of the fermented goods upon her consciousness — her thoughts became longer, her mind a little bit more languid, more spacious — things that once bothered her, somehow, didn’t bother her anymore. Dakarai, who? Loneliness, what? It was all fine. In fact, it was more than fine; it was so good, because she was here and she was alive, and she was with her friend and her friend’s friend and she had been forgiven for her past transgressions. Oh, yes! Her vision swam and the lamb felt quite uninhibited, and so unable to contain her sudden rush of joie de vivre was she, that Olive tipped her chin to the sky and squared her weight back towards her haunches and let out a triumphal yip! and, subsequently, she dissolved into a fit of giggles at how simply absurd that action must have been.