Shimmering Sands Could be happy

His vague reply answered her unspoken question. Q's lips parted as if to say something else when he asked about her "friend." She glanced down at the otter perched on his hind legs between her forelegs. He was a curious and inquisitive critter, nearly as fearless as Quell herself. But he always stuck close when other wolves were nearby, even at Seabolt. She knew he didn't trust any of them the way he trusted her.

"This is Frolic," she introduced. He tittered in agreement. "And I'm Quellcrist, all one word. Last name's Mayfair." The gulls were beginning to settle down on the beach behind her. She could hear squabbling and imagined some of them were fighting over that dead jellyfish. "So what's your name and why do you look like..." Rather than come up with a descriptor, Q waved her paw around her own face and pulled her lips down in a mockery of a frown, complete with pouted lower lip. Then she took it a step further, clenching her paw into a fist and rotating it back and forth as she pretended to cry. Frolic helpfully supplied a soundtrack, sounding a little like a chipmunk being strangled.