Totoka River the upper peninsula

Rokig’s smile did not shatter the stoic lines and somber planes of his face, but tugged at them instead — revealing, perhaps, that this rather solemn nature of his was a fixed, immutable trait. The quiet weight of his presence reminded Coelacanth of Marbas, but even if it had not, the smile alone would have endeared the male to her. She set her catlike paw down, seeking to reach her nose toward his before he drew completely away, and ghosted forward another tentative step.

“Could I ever come see?”

Honest delight danced in her Neptune eyes. She nodded, her tail whisking gaily behind her, and made her eagerness plain: “Please,” she breathed, tufted ears cupping forward upon her crown. The word she wanted was, “anytime,” but what emerged was, “Ever.” He was free to visit whenever he wished. Undersea was not a particularly territorial pack as a whole, and even though some members were a bit pricklier than others, Seelie was sure that she would be there to intercept and unravel any misunderstandings. The idea that he even wanted to visit lifted her mood further.

“Anger?” she whisper-whined, but shook her head in embarrassment almost immediately once the word left her lips. Her time with the humans had severely incapacitated her speaking ability, and even though she had managed to fashion for herself a means of communicating verbally via breathlike whispers, she simply couldn’t do it often enough to achieve fluency. Words that sounded the same or carried similar meanings — fawn and fern, anytime and ever — were rather difficult to keep straight. She’d said “anger” — but what she’d meant to say was, “Hunger?”