Gilded Bay Deep Dark Unknown

The words lanced through Valiant like reedgrass in a hurricane — how something so innocuous could be made into a weapon by this internal storm was something that never ceased to amaze him. Dutch liked to say he was sensitive. Perhaps he was. Either way —

"Me too," he agreed, edging closer with great care. The wet stones were slippery, and yet cut into his paws like jagged shards of glass. He eyed the woman's paw pads and decided that his superior weight was to blame for this injustice. It would heal either way, though. He pressed on, until he could look down into the tidepool across from her. As the swirling sand and silt settled, he caught sight of a small, swimming minnow. Try saying that three times fast. It was liver-colored, plain and drab, but when the sun caught its scales the isbjørn saw the rainbow.

"Is it for something in particular?" he wondered. "Or are you just passin' time?"