Two Rivers Isle i'm like a shot of adrenaline [m]ixed with some ritalin

They had barely come to the edge of the river, with Indra trying to suss out a good place to lay in the shade and soak her toes, when Gun's body launched clear across her periphery. The resulting splash frothed water away from the bank but Indra still winced. The bobbing dog spat water, looking more akin to a wad of chewed up gum with all the loose, diaphanous folds now expanding beneath the magnification of the water's surface.

Indra took one second to splash some water back at her ally before sinking her paws in, and beginning to wade deeper. That was about the time a stranger's silhouette came trawling the other side; it was their demanding voice that earned the turn of Indra's head in profile, and brief airplane-ears, before the girl huffed and called to Gun:
Sounds like somethin' crawled up their ass'n—
—Red.
=—died.

Every  hair on Indra's body stood on-end when she heard that voice, and that name, and she was brought back to a time before the roaming, and the desperation. To a time of a different kind of desperation. Was she supposed to be happy upon this sudden reunion? Her eyes went wide, her mouth hinged, and then she was scowling, but to say she knew how she felt or what was expressed there upon her face would be a lie.

With iron in her spine Indra strut one more punch through the water and shouted, THE FUCK, COLT? We thought you died you asshole! To say she was glad to see him was an understatement, although the viscious, bitter, nettle-like quality of her voice said otherwise.