Wheeling Gull Isle I just wanna live in the sound scape

“Making friends, Koi?”

The tuft-eared puppy paused, her pert pink tongue pressed sweetly to Lucas’ chin, and popped to all fours like a droplet of water in a piping hot skillet. She jittered and sizzled merrily upon seeing her father, but there was no guilt or guile in her face — just a worshipful sort of fondness and a modicum of surprise. “Appa!” she chirped, suddenly mindful of her clawed passenger and her first friend-friend. With exaggerated care, she lowered herself back to the sand and dipped her shoulder so the little crab could scuttle away — but he was accustomed to the ocean tides, and instinct told him to bury against her neck until the jostling finally stopped. It tickled, and her slimming muzzle scrunched and twitched as she grappled against the urge to scratch at him with her hind paw or scrub him off with a hearty roll in the sand.

“Lucas,” she echoed very carefully (in between soft giggles and squeaks of laughter as the crustacean burrowed firmly in the hollow of her throat), “please make friends?” She rounded on him with a shy, entreating air, her oversized ears pinning submissively against her skull. Rehan, Blossom, and the other new seawolves were perfectly lovely, but they were all big wolves — and all the smaller wolves were her sisters and brothers already. She wasn’t at all sure that she was doing this the right way, but she certainly hoped so! Coelacanth loved her children immensely, but she had not exactly prepared them to be social with wolves outside Undersea.