Cerulean Cape a world within a world

a yearling. she appeared as sobeille’s contemporary in terms of age, a lithe limb dangling in the water.

for a time sobeille just studied, listening to the soft sound that spilled from the girl’s humming throat. when that ended, the air seemed a little colder — and a wind drew up against her topline.

sobeille inched closer. she could make out silvery threads of fur, peppered with brown and tans — but from this distance was hardly more than a curious observer.