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If Sixgill hadn’t decided to try to eat another inedible thing, Coelacanth might have noticed the odd, strikingly familiar female painted in a huntress’ stalk — but he had. The exact moment that Erzulie paused and glanced their way, a telltale gnawing sound had the Groenendael’s head whipping around to chuff gruffly at her son. Paired with the piercing eye she turned upon him and the swift stiffening of her stance, this was the equivalent of a stern, “I really mean it,” voice. After a moment’s stubbornness, the gold cloud boy released the tight clench of his jaw and unfurled his tongue with a dejected blep. A small, round stone rolled from his mouth as he propped his chin on his paw and huffed his offense, and the erythristic woman went utterly unnoticed.

“Still no,” Moorhen’s Shadow breathed mournfully, her eyes pinning down her third- and lastborn children with a flash of sorrow. Both puppies were incredibly fond of Moorhen and stopped their roving to flock to her, vying desperately for the banded female’s attention. Despite her worry, Seelie smiled, watching fondly as Six and Koi reared up, trying to lick fervently at their sister-aunt’s chin. “Nor `Io. Nor Rokig.”