Coconut Grove minute maid pink lemonade

dalia didn't seem to get it, or maybe she just wasn't amused by ribald humour. well then. she and ford should get along swimmingly, he snarked to himself. the prospect of his titanic brother finding romance before the other two had never sparked envy in velen before, not until he looked at dalia and imagined ford giving her one of the aforementioned looks.
it was not a possessiveness — the yearling hardly knew this she-wolf — but rather a misgiving. he had been pleased with his life thus far; was he ready to live in the shadow of the massive seawolf the remainder of his life?
it was a dark road to take through the recesses of his mind — for now he would follow his brother, because ford had not ever led him astray. he need only trust in that. steeling himself against the puerile workings of his own head, velen consciously rejoined the women in the same moment the coconut split against the stones and sprayed up at them. presumably dalia had ducked behind him; he closed his eyes against the lick of it. "ugh! coconut jizz!" the boy hissed in faux disgust.
in the next moment, he had followed saucy with a whoop. "niiiiice," velen crooned, eyeing the wrecked fruit with its droplets of milk. "wasn't that way more fun than trying to bite it open? you wanna get more?" his gaze drifted quickly between the pair of them, plume swaying at his heels.