Sawtooth Spire We were talking for a minute, then some guy tried to cut in

Wylla might never have known about Phaedra's fear of water if she hadn't looked back to find the girl's feet bound to the earth with a vacant quality to her stare. What little she knew of Phaedra's near-drowning experience, she'd assumed was an exaggeration, so it took her by surprise to see her daughter fettered so.

But it was very brief, and then Phaedra was in the water, thrusting her snout under and presumably watching the fish as they weaved and dipped around the current. Meh. Maybe it was nothing, but maybe it wasn't. She'd keep it in mind. Wylla herself stepped into the shallows as well, relishing the cool wash of water over her ankles. It brought her back.

It wasn't the cold bite of the sea, but it was a small, nostalgic thing, and she cherished it all the same.

Mama! She looked up to where Phaedra stood, dripping wet and excitedly exclaiming about the simming saladmanners, which made her crack a wide grin. Kids were dumb as rocks and it was hilarious. Perceptive, but dumb. Those are fish, she called back. They go blub, blub and live underwater.

That was the end of that lesson, Phaedra decided by throwing her face back into the water, only to emerge with an oath that made Wylla laugh aloud. She indulged a moment in a romp through the shallows, kicking water and snapping playfully after the darting streaks of red that swam past. Despite growing up by the ocean, fishing was never her forte, so she didn't even try to catch one.

That is, until Phaedra did. Wylla wasn't paying attention when she pulled a gigantic shark tooth out of the water; she only zoned back in on her daughter when she began shouting again, wading awkwardly around like she was trying to grab something between her toes.

Like this! she whooped, darting her slim muzzle into the water between her daughter's forelegs, only to promptly miss the salmon and emerge spluttering with a bit of river greenery draped across her snout.