Whitefish River all the sunlight's good for us

the voice that came drew him out of his self-imposed rage, and he stared at the golden form that had emerged, blinking profusely. only to find himself embarrassed, crawling into a shell, as he realized. . . ahhh. the girl from the cliffs, whom he had abandoned. he felt bad, still. he shouldn't have fled as he had.

i am, cam argued, at a loss for other words. what am i doing wrong? i'm trying. he gave these words fervently, trying to state his case. whether nieve understood or not, he didn't know.

but it was nieve. she knew the ocean, its happiness and its ire. why shouldn't she know the fishes, too? water life should come naturally to the girl; his ears perked, waiting for her response, even as his face remained sullen and dripping.