Sleepy Fox Hollow desalinate the sea, pour the waters into me

Coo-hoo, hoo-hoo, hoo.

Anselm's eyes opened with a start. It was a day like any other for him; the den was warm and an unusually generous slant of sunlight pooled at the entrance and cast all in a golden glow. He was tangled between @Emmerich's legs with his body ending somewhere along @Isa's. 

Coo-hoo, hoo-hoo, hoo.

His ears did their own bidding, pricking instinctively despite their ineffectiveness.

A mourning dove trilled somewhere in the canopy's hidden kingdom above the den. Anselm knew nothing of the order of birds, for for a while he stared glassy-eyed at the ceiling, transfixed by the low warble of a dove far away.