Wheeling Gull Isle snake eyed with a sly smile.

ava’s breathing came in leaping bounds - her throat burned as tears stung her eyes. caracal’s gentle pats seemed to coax some rhythm back into each breath, and as he rubbed her sides ava gradually felt things return to normal. 

she’d learned something valuable then: water was not for breathing. 

collecting the last of her small hiccuping breath, ava’s auds perked (kek) as caracal indicated something of interest just out of eyesight. she sat up straight, floppy tail wagging as his face loomed close. it was the perfect opportunity for a sloppy puppy kiss — which she gave before darting off in the direction he’d been looking.