Dragoncrest Cliffs are plumes of pampas grass

Mireille assured him she was fine, but Sobo reached out to gently brush his nose over her cheek and muzzle all the same. He could not smell any sign of sickness or injury. All's well that ends well, they say, and Sobo let his misgivings slip away at last. Until Mireille brought up the sea.

I do not feel de sea de way dat ya an' Coraline do, he shared, but it felt like de wind be holdin' its breat' dere, almost. Like dere be somet'in' below de surface. At the time, he thought it was just The Listener. There was certainly something weird about her. He was convinced she was a loa or some other spiritual creature, but what Mireille described sounded more foreboding than that. She shivered and he clucked his tongue in thought.

What do ya t'ink? he asked.