Coconut Grove I looked in the mirror, I'm different

he ambled along the shore, bits of last seaborn meal tangled in his beard. it was growing longer, he noted with pride. the elongated bangs were less convenient, but for sure charming in their own way.

when he first heard the laugh, his tail rose, and he looked out over the waves. merfolk? so often he'd used that comparison, he'd almost begun to believe it as truth.

a pale head bobbed in the sea. the komondor stood lax and careless as he watched it vanish and re-emerge with each rise of the tide. a drowning woman would not laugh, he assured himself. if she disappeared underwater for a bit too long, sure, he'd swim to help, but not before.

for now, the man merely enjoyed the view.

when she came from the water and roused a flock of seagulls into rising in a whirlwind around her, their feathers falling onto her creamy fur like a bride's petals, the bard grinned wide. he'd come to lay down not far from there, and felt the lyrics coming as the last wingbeats faded.

"...layk ae river flows,
surely, t' th' sea,
daerling, so it goes,
some things are meant t' be..."