Silverlight Terrace but what's that gotta do with this atom bomb in me?

I'm gonna fade this one so it's not hanging around your threadlog during your vacation, but Ray and Njord will hafta spend some more time when he comes to visit once you're back!

Ray mimicked Njord's disparaging sound with a playful one of his own, not quite so rugged as his sire's. Some of us got a lot of muscle to lug around, da. You wouldn't know how it feels!

He listened while Njord reminisced, idly inspecting his outstretched paws. One of the nails on the left one had cracked sometime during their travels. As if on cue, he felt a twinge of pain, the way all unseen wounds liked to hurt only once they were spotted. He flexed the paw once and looked away from it with a grimace.

He might have a couple more cracks to add by the time they got to the sea.

We should chase a sea lion instead, he proposed. Gulls are good for nothing, but a sea lion is a feast! Only Stingray wasn't well versed in hunting live prey. His hunting skills were limited to picking stranded morsels from tide pools and stuffing his face with whale blubber. He had always wondered what sea lions tasted like, what with their similarities to wolves rather than prey, and he wouldn't mind wasting an afternoon with his da trying to bag one.

They talked of sea lions and otters and shorebirds and even sharks — with Ray eagerly proclaiming that he would hunt one someday — for a while longer before resuming their journey to Moontide.