Greatwater Lake wrapped them in "I don't owe you a damn thing"

After a time, the doe would seemingly startle - head whipping up alertly as she scanned the shadows surrounding the lake - and with an inaudible bleat, sheparded the younglings away from the shores. 

Fen couldn't pinpoint when exactly her argent gaze was drawn to the dark silhouette. One moment, she was grooming the dried milk out of her crusted fur; the next, a double take had attracted her attention to the bearish shadow approaching. 

Her brow rumpled slightly, pale gaze squinting against the enroaching darkness, for the movements were lupine - not ursine. 

In time, when the man was close enough to be distinguishable, he would find a seelie gaze filled with just as much curiosity as his own. 

"A 'alfling," the milkmother lilted automatically, if a bit shyly, "like yerself."

His blood was as immediately noticeable as her own. He was immense. A giant, coated in camoflauging bands of brindle with cropped ears and a neat spiral of a tail. If anything, it was this detail that alerted the selkie to his heritage - for it much resembled her own. Hers was not tucked so highly against her spine but it was a curly plume of feathered wisps to a lesser degree. 

"I am called Awenfen," the sighthound introduced herself, pale diadem bobbing respectfully. 

for clarification, a halfling is a cultural term of Awenfen's that is used for wolfdogs.