Duck Lake precious and fragile things

Was she crying? He tilted his head, having never seen such a reaction before. It was a sign of weakness to him, and his body itched to roll the female onto her back, just to prove her point. But instead he stood, tense, ears quivering as he listened. The tiny, reflective drop that lay nestled in the crook of her muzzle held Dovev's focus, his tail waving. It was not a motion of joy, but one of stiffness.

I am sorry to hear that, Esperanza. It was a poor response to her outpouring, but the male had never been one for expressing anything remotely close and personal to himself. He drifted closer, and suddenly he had rested his chin on the lithe ebony creature's muzzle and his tongue had darted out to licked the single droplet away from her soft fur. It was surprisingly warm, and tasted of seawater.