Oystercatcher Tide Pools place your bets

Brontide slapped a heavy paw over his prize when Sirimiri made a bid for it, spitting a mouthful of feathers in her general direction — he’d heard that snicker! He was quick to relent, though. You couldn’t call Bron a particularly chivalrous male, but he was a softie when it came to his family. Tearing the carcass into two roughly equal portions, he tossed her the larger piece and continued his repast in one fluid motion. Grunting companionably at her, he asked, “What’re you thinking about?” It was never easy to tell with Sirimiri. She took after their mother, that way. He didn’t offer any leading questions — things like, “Think we’ll find the little’uns?” or, “Think we’ll stick around for awhile?” might derail her train of thought.

He did wonder, though.

“I heard you,” Serein assured Komodo, “and I’ll be the first to tell Brontide he needs to clean the sand out of his ears if he says you didn’t answer him.” They both knew the stormy-furred male wasn’t the type to nitpick, though, so the warm laugh that followed was not at her brother’s expense but at her own. She butted hard at the angakkuq’s shoulder with her muzzle when he pawed [albeit gently] at the urchin. “Don’t!” she warned with an alarmed bark. “Even if the spines don’t look terribly painful, they can still get stuck — do you really want us to take turns peeing on your paw?” Though she chided him, her eyes were gentle and her tone still bore the lightness of her laughter. “Anyway, I’m shocked and offended at your dislike of seafood,” she told him, obviously in jest, “as are all of my ancestors.”