Gilded Bay the depths are calling

For those few precious seconds, he leeches heat from the sea-scented man. Not wanting to encroach further, Natjuk gives him space. Stealing a glance at his profile shows healing wounds around his mouth. Maybe this one is not so benevolent, after all. Natjuk licks the water from his lips.

I am no native, no. I hail from mountains northeast of here. Not terribly far from their location in the grand scheme of things. They may have relocated now, though. Depends on where the bison are. He cooly regards the male at his side. It is obvious he makes his home along the bank; he emanates salt and little else.