Stavanger Bay seagulls

lestan's speech came in titches and ticks, but it came all the same. he spent hours with @Blossom, teaching her to speak even as it returned to him. he hunted for the forming pack, he swam in the sea, he marked the borders, hunting where vaire or @Rhaegal directed.
he allowed @Reverie her time, her space, embracing her as she wished.
but his flesh remained riddled by guilt, unable to respond, and this became a source of chagrin for lestan.
today he carefully cracked crabs and brought them back to a seaside cache. he had grown stronger, more full; he was laced with salt and sand, and quiet, ever quiet.

Blossom was elongating.

No really, she was. Her baby down coat was shedding to become more vibrant, swapping out her greys for a much brighter off white. Her eyes had mingled in the middle of changing. She had shot up like a weed in the past week, her legs suddenly too long for her body and, hilariously, her neck fur took charge on getting longer so she appeared less like a puppy and more like a woman wrapped in a feather boa with a child’s face sticking over the top.

This new period of growth made her slightly grumpier than usual, and definitely clumsier, but she was no less happy for it. 

Today, she came tumbling to meet her father, her mouth open to release a cry akin to a garbage disposal sound mocked by a bird.

Pap! Papa! She was testing something new there. The nice lady, Vairee or whatever her name was, had been teaching her sometimes too, but she had smelled funny recently and Blossom hadn’t seen her so much. She slowed to a stop in front of Lestan, her little mouth opened in a wide smile as she pointed her overlarge paw at what he had.

That! What!

blossom was growing. lestan had carried her for so often than it seemed he did not remember when he had stopped, when she had grown into her limbs and legs, when she had become almost such a picture of reverie to his eyes that her very smile reminded him of them both.
"that is a crab, blossom," lestan murmured in a voice that still was muted from what he had done.
he touched its still carapace with his paw. "when they move, be careful. they can pinch."
his eyes found her own, and he encouraged her to come closer, showing her the stalked eyes, the empty claws.

Keeeer-ahb! She tried the word on her tongue and giggled when it sounded funny. She followed her father’s lead, her little face split with a bright smile that she wore often enough to become a staple.

Pinch is owie. A far too serious nod for a child so small, as she reached out to put her paw in the same place Lestan had, looking up at the man with a grin.

Ker-ahb!

he could not help but smile at blossom's soft goodness. "crab, yes, very good," lestan murmured, arranging their limp bodies beneath the cool sand to keep, and then he paused. "would you like to taste one, blossom?" 
without waiting, he bent down to crack the shell of one pincer in his back teeth, exposing the soft white meat. "try it."

Blossom clumsily sat at her father’s feet, watching him like a hawk as he cracked open a pincer.

Her mouth dropped open. 

Eat does? She “whispered”, leaning towards her father like she was telling him a secret. But, her father had suggested it, and if her father suggested she could fly, she would have happily tried it.

So, she reached down, pulled the delicate meat into her mouth, and blinked as she chewed.

Mmmmm! She crooned happily, chewing a bit more aggressively on the piece she had, before swallowing.

Tas’good!

wasn't she absolutely perfect? lestan was thankful all over again that thus far blossom did not seem to have suffered after her birth, nor their tense, brief time in swiftcurrent; nor the journey or anything else that came after it.
he cracked another pincer for her. "it's sweet!"
the mayfair was growing accustomed to shellfish and saltmeat, more with each day.