The dog nodded, going along with the hybrid’s story as she hinted at her reasoning for chasing the blasted feline. Vesper was glad that she wasn’t instantly jumping to her companion’s side, though that also meant the cat probably frequently got into trouble. The thought made her smirk until the canine addressed the orange-eyed cat, apparently shocked.
The feline slipped out from underneath her protector’s belly, and without really knowing it, the coywolf gave a quick sniff. Her large brown-rimmed ears lowered close to her head with irritation as the conversation continued, this time between cat and dog. Apparently, the dog was pissed at her “protector’s” behavior, which made Vesper smirk with satisfaction from her seated position on the sand. Hopefully the other female could chew the cat out, which was an okay alternative to Vesper literally doing so.
She was about to suggest they knock the cat around to teach it a lesson—maybe playfully—when the cat strutted off with a hiss over her shoulder: “Bite your tongue, dear. Before one of them bite it for you.”
The coywolf growled once after the cat, though she did not yet know that the words had been a significant jab. She was about to make some remark on the situation when a whine made her sharply turn her head toward the mottled dog. Those blue eyes were lost, set in a fearful face; she trembled and stepped back, a final whine keening from her mouth.
As she shook and cried, Vesper stood still, expression one of surprise, confusion, and unease. Her first instinct was to run off; she wouldn’t want others to come and comfort her, so perhaps the dog wanted to be left alone, too. However, another instinct combated that one—an instinct to reach out and comfort and protect.
Vesper took in a deep, quiet breath and glanced briefly out to the ocean, watching the waves roll in and out, in and out, a rhythm accompanied by a soft hiss and growl each time the water slithered up and down the shore. The sand was warm underneath her paws, and there were only a few strides’ distance between her and the crying girl. She made up her mind.
The coywolf walked to her, announcing her approach with lowered ears and a quiet whine meant to show she wasn’t dangerous. She slunk close then sat down beside her, hoping that the dog wouldn’t jerk away. Her slender muzzle reached slowly over to nuzzle against her neck and ear.
“Tell me what’s wrong, sweetheart.” Vesper’s voice was low, almost a croon. “You’re okay. You’re safe with me, all right? I didn’t get these scars sitting on my ass when the people I cared about were in danger.” Her lips pulled upwards, almost a smile. “What’s your name? I’m Vesper.”
