The Sentinels [m]y love is a lifetaker

Marina emerged willingly, startling Dutch with the swiftness of her approach. He felt that they groveled to each other there in the dirt, his nose finding her crown as she washed his paws. Her scent enveloped him, heavy and homey in his lungs.

"Marina," he breathed in return, dipping his head to try and wedge his muzzle under hers. He nosed at her cheek in desperate affection, pleased with this development but —

"You must eat something," he told her, attempting to direct her attention toward the remains of the otter. By physically turning her head, if he had to. "When have you last filled your belly?"