Ankyra Sound digital bath

A voice.

Mulherin turns his head to face the girl, his feet still submerged in a layer of bitterly freezing water. She is slim and windblown, draped in a coat of washed out red—vaguely reminiscent of his mother, if she were sunbleached. The thought has him eyeing her keenly, especially since she did not rise to look at him.

His tail sways in a friendly wag, kicking up a barrage of water droplets every time it skims the waves.

Come on, it can't be that obvious. He replies, masking his unwillingness to outright admit that no, this was his first time seeing the ocean behind a layer of dry humor. The water's just fine. See?