Sea Lion Shores may a storm wash you into coldharbour

iliksis did not miss the shadow that crossed and then lifted across laurel's face as she saw him. something about her appeared guarded, as if she expected trouble from his presence -- but that strange shade across her tan muzzle just as soon lifted.

she did not smell as if she was alone; carefully, iliksis subtly looked about him. no wolves lingered in his periphery that he could tell.

his gaze fell to the water, which laurel was splashing. she claimed it was for fun -- iliksis' expression turned wry, for she looked much too old to be engaging in the sport of puppies. her mention of being in a good mood was noted by the lift of his tall ears. "and why is that?" the dybbuk queried, his dull eyes tracing the small waves laurel's play issued.