Dragoncrest Cliffs riptide

Perhaps if she had known what tragedy awaited her, Lucette herself might have urged her littermate to give her back to the sea; to let her rest alongside their family. In her ignorance, she fought for breath. A few faint coughs, first, spraying saltwater — and then she began to retch even before she sat up, the force of it lifting her in itself.

Seawater streamed from mouth, eyes, nose. She choked and heaved, coughed more than breathed. But she did breathe, each sharp intake of air like fire in her throat.

And she recognized her savior, if only vaguely. The scent of her older sister, too. These things registered on a subconscious level, and she could only choke out, Maman? Wondering even in this moment what could have kept her fierce mother from the side of any of her children, especially one so battered by the sea. In all of her worst moments, it had been her mother she wished for most of all, even beyond her twin.

But she was not here.