Greatwater Lake Boy toy named Troy

She stared into the water for what felt like millennia longer. Aktaiê had already gained her feet and bounded forward, and at long last Psamathe broke her stare from the water and lifted her head to glance in her sister's direction. She saw the silhouette of an approaching wolf, and somewhere far in the distance, a pinprick suggesting another followed.

She was as fierce as her siren brethren and gathered her paws quickly. She was tall and willowy herself, but Psamathe wasn't a pushover, at least not compared to ordinary wolves. Her sisters could best her in combat easily, particularly the more Amazonian of them, but that made her a Sea Nymph through and through. She was a scholar... But that didn't mean she couldn't mark a wolf's hide. She was as adaptable as the Mother Sea, and moved with the same coursing strength. She remained in the shallows, though, ready to move but presently fixed there.

When finally the High Priestess called out in familiarity, the salt-and-pepper Adept relaxed. “αδελφή,” she breathed lovingly with a wave of her tail. “You have felt Her pull here as well?” Atlas soon arrived as well, skirting the females and nodding. Psamathe, bitch that she was, returned his greeting with a disgruntled curling of her lip before fixing Akantha with a warm and curious stare.