Hoshor Plains ommatophoca

her tail thumped at the ground. i am a good swimmer. better than my brothers. she was proud of that. of course the twins were skilled in their own ways, and together the trio would have been unstoppable.

her mood shifts to something somber, forlorn. thinking of them often had this effect.

but i have only ever seen dead ones. seals. caught by others and half-eaten. in those cases the fat had spoiled by the time her family had gone to eat, and they had to be careful what they cut free of the carrion.

absently, she asks - do you have brothers? sisters?