Seaside Moors wyvern lingo

val didn't know what was worse; his crippling fear of the water, or the blase way regin touched -- TOUCHED -- the surface with a paw. there was an audible intake of fearful air as he half-expected a thousand tentacled arms to wrap their suckers around her paw and drag her under.

he even watched the ripples mistrustfully, waiting for them to turn around and suck her in. so many of his dreams had included drowning or dying in the pelagic deep. he was not fuckin' going there.

he remained rooted to the sand, wishing for once that there was a tree or even a mother or two to hide behind. how could regin be so brave?! "be careful!" he croaked, unwilling to change his mind despite regin's assurance if there was something there it would have already gotten her. what if it wasn't hungry?! or what if it was asleep and she had woken it by touching the water?

oh fuck. val didn't like that thought. instantly, he turned tail and ran.