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It is by happenstance their eyes lock as it crests a wave with a grace the other beasts lack, a lavender glimmer that shifts to cobalt and amethyst and carnelian, pale pupil blown wide. He can see the intelligence and purpose in that gaze as it picks him apart in turn, evaluating him as though it can see down to the very core of his soul and beyond. He feels naked and bare but unable to look away, attention rapt as the moments bleed into what feels like an eternity.
The cry of a gull pulls both of them back to reality, those stained glass eyes flickering behind nictitating membrane, Wriothesley suddenly aware of the rough hewn stone beneath his feet and the steady mist of the crashing waves as it sweeps over him.
He is not sure where the word selkie came to mind, unbidden though it may have been, but it slots perfectly into place. He suddenly knows without a doubt that is what the creature is just as much as he knows it is his own heart that hammers in his chest. There is something primal and fae as the selkie rises again, gaze drifting over him curiously though it refrains from coming any closer. For now it maintains its distance though Wriothesley draws solace in the fact that it has not fled.
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This might be my favorite story ever. Im just going to curl up around it and hug it forever and ever and read it over a bajillion times. 🥹🥹🥹🖤