Totoka River the sky and the sand and the sea

Thanks!

Skífa trekked quietly after Corvo, enjoying the silence. When they hit the coast, he braced himself against the rolling ocean breeze, letting it tousle his fur and skim his cheeks. The gray waters hissed and surged for countless leagues. Large breakers hammered through the rocks, running ashore on black beaches of ice and shingle. Gulls kited above them, riding cold currents through misty clouds. He smiled, staring adventurously at the horizon. Until Corvo picked a new direction and the pair roamed further west.

At this point, Skífa quietly mulled over reneging his part of the deal. He hadn't traveled with someone for this long in a long time. It felt weird. Suspicious. He didn't need Corvo's company anymore, after the fog. It set him on edge.

They came to a river. Twisting, cold, and glassy dark. He drifted into the river-reeds while Corvo satiated his thirst. The suggestion made him prick his ears. "Are you?" He doubled back, drifting toward the riverside by Corvo. "You know of Water Fathers? Hunters of fishermen. Big frogfish, size of wolves. Live in rivers like this. Will drown you if they get the chance. Especially in winter." Skífa waited to let the idea sink in; he didn't expect it would frighten Corvo, but he was amused by the opportunity to share the morbid tidbit of folklore. Then he smiled and shook his head. "Pup-tales, huh? I'll fish." He flicked dark eyes to the shadows swimming beneath the surface. "How you want to do this?"