Ankyra Sound And I'm not wearing trainers

Her teeth clacked together audibly as she rowed for the outcropping, using her tail as a rudder to steer her and steady her against the ocean's rocking rhythm. It felt like all the heat was being sucked from her core; by the time she managed to haul herself up on the salt-crusted rock, she was thoroughly shivering. Had she been fully dry before delving into the depths a second time she might have fared better, but the wolf shook herself and regretted that they would need to swim back.

"Damn," she murmured once Mahler had presumably joined her. "Sorry, that felt way warmer before." She hadn't really watched his movements through the water and couldn't make any conclusions about how good a sea wolf he would make, but Wylla didn't call all that much. It was true that it took a hardy sort of wolf to eke out a living on the coast, but she didn't feel she was all that hardy and she was managing. Mahler would fit in just fine, she was certain.