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Damn and spit! The shark got away. Mosirra wasn't carnivorous--she was more of an omnivore than anything else. She rather liked the acrid taste of shark, and loved chasing them around. Not like dolphins--nasty, evil creatures, dolphins. She hunted to eat sharks; she hunted dolphins to get them out of the way. They were competitive, cruel, they got in the way...well, there were a lot of reasons she hated dolphins. It was not a subject to bring up with Eelico, though. Eelico wasn't fond of sharks, but he considered dolphins to be quite close to stars. They just had to politely disagree with that, Mosirra had decided. It didn't do to argue with her ward over something entirely inconsequential.

In the aftermath of the failed strike, she heard a familiar voice behind her. Mosirra grunted and turned her head. There, swimming behind her, was none other than Ozean. She vaguely remembered the star--they'd met not long after they Fell, and he and Eelico had had an animated conversation about anything and everything. To be honest, Mosirra had mostly dropped off in that conversation. It wasn't much to interest her, really. Just stories she'd heard a thousand times before and a stallion complaining of his loneliness. But Mosirra still remembered the arctova nonetheless. Eelico still mused occasionally on what had happened to the other star. It had been some years since last they had met, though, and the drake was bemused to see him here.

She'd forgotten things about him--the colors of his eyes, the way his tail was almost entirely white. Oh yeah, and the fact that he insisted on addressing her in what he no doubt thought of as formal speech. Mosirra had once thought of it that way, too--until Eelico had told her that it used to be an informal form of address reserved for social lessers. Oh well. Mosirra was not interested in protocol. He meant her respect, even if he had a weird way of showing it (seriously, who talked formally to a bodyguard, anyway? Even one like her?). For that, Mosirra had to respect him. She swam over to the stallion and grunted, nodding her head in respect. She could not speak--did he not remember that?

Yes, that was a silly question, but Ozean was such a silly stallion, did it really matter? Hmph. No. Not to Mosirra, anyway. Ozean was just...too silly a stallion to worry too much about. But he made Eelico happy, and when it got right down to it, that was really all that mattered to Mosirra. Eelico was very special to her, and so his happiness was important to her, no matter what.

Mosirra gestured in the direction that Eelico had gone. He was sunbathing on the surface, surrounded by a raft of sea otters. Normally Mosirra didn't go in for cute things, but sea otters were, quite frankly, very cute. Too cute to resist. But she scared them too much to go near them, so mostly Mosirra avoided the sea otters and let Eelico get on with his sunbathing without her. It wasn't like there was anything that could come at him from above that could hurt him, after all. ...Well, some flying stars, alcors or dragons or somesuch, but so far Mosirra hadn't seen any that posed a threat to her, and anyway, she was close enough to protect Eelico should there be a problem, and he could always turn into a cat to defend himself for the amount of time it took Mosirra to come to his aid.

Mosirra watched Ozean squirm with embarrassment. Even if she'd been able to talk, she knew that Ozean would rather talk with her companion than with her. She didn't think she'd be a good conversationalist even if she could talk--she just wasn't social enough to care about conversations. She wasn't offended by Ozean at all.

Eelico was, indeed, entertaining an audience of sea otters. Most of them were taking a break from hunting and doing the all-important work of fluffing air into their coats. They took this very seriously--it was impossible to completely dry out sea otter fur that had gotten wet, and unlike seals, they needed their heavy fur to stay warm in these cold temperate waters. Stars stayed warm through whatever inner light created them; other creatures were nowhere near as lucky, and had to make do with fur or fat. However, that did mean that there was a time in an otter's busy schedule to sit back and listen to something while she worked.

Eelico was enjoying the sun as well as the company. The water was cold on his back, but his belly and neck were warm from the sun, and almost dry with how long he had been sitting here. "The second salmon swam into the throne chamber. He saw the blood hanging in the water, and he saw the scales of his fellow courtier on the king's teeth. 'Tell me,' the king said. 'I must know, for this has been bothering me. Tell me truthfully and honestly, how do I smell?' The salmon was clever, and realized what had happened to his colleague. 'You smell wonderful!' he said. 'You smell fantastic, like fresh seaweed and brine!' But the shark growled, because he knew that was a lie. So he lunged forward from his throne and he ate the salmon whole, snap! Not so clever after all," he added to a pup that was looking at him in wide-eyed amazement.

Eelico glanced out of the corner of his eye and gave a smile and a nod of approval to Ozean. He saw his friend there, waiting patiently for him to finish his story, and he couldn't help but feel glad to see him. Normally, Eelico liked to travel alone with just Mosirra for company, but Ozean was always a welcome figure on his journeys. He liked Ozean--he was a good listener, and intelligent, and he was also quite charming in his awkwardness. He was a good person to talk to, and one of the few people he felt truly comfortable with. He finished up his story and, while the otters returned to their hunting, rolled over in the seaweed toward Ozean.

"Ozean, my friend," he murmured. "What brings you around here?"

Eelico listened to what Ozean said, and he was left speechless. This...was not what he had expected Ozean to say.

What had he expected, anyway? To be honest, he wasn't sure. Ozean had rarely ever asked him any favors in the past, and when he had asked "favors" they had almost always been ones that Eelico was about to ask of him. For example, just as Eelico was getting ready to ask Ozean if Ozean wanted to hear a story, Ozean would ask him for one, before Eelico even had a chance to speak. He would ask Eelico if there was anything he could do for him before Eelico had the chance to ask Ozean if there was anything he could do for the other stallion. It was uncanny, and for a storyteller like Eelico, it felt like more than that. It wasn't coincidence or luck, it was some kind of invisible resonance between them, where when one of them needed something, the other already knew what it was, and was ready to provide it. Spooky, and Eelico had often wondered if it meant anything in the end.

So when Ozean had asked for a favor, he had been completely surprised. He hadn't felt any need for Ozean to give him something or reciprocate something, and yet, here he was, asking Eelico a question. The Alcor Nova listened to Ozean pour his heart out and Eelico felt a pang in his chest. Poor Ozean...of course, he'd known. Ozean had felt unwanted and unneeded in his old herd, and so he'd struck out on his own, shortly before that herd dissolved of its own accord. Eelico had been glad of that at the time, as he'd never felt like Tir Na nOg had deserved his friend, but now he wondered if he'd been too hasty. Ozean was right--he was still enough of a social animal to need the company of his own kind. Eelico was lucky--what little company he needed had always been sated by Mosirra's constant presence watching over him.

Now he realized that the happiness Ozean had shown at seeing Eelico every time they had met since had been hiding a dangerous undercurrent of desperation, of need. Eelico should have felt that sooner--he and Ozean were sort of connected, weren't they? So why hadn't he felt this sooner, the pain his friend was in?

Normally Eelico would never have said yes. He liked to keep people at a distance. People tired him out. All he needed was Mosirra, so all he kept was Mosirra too. But Ozean was different. He was very different. Ozean said that Eelico was knowledgeable? That was nothing, nothing to the kinds of things Ozean knew. Ozean was a born scholar, while Eelico, he was just a storyteller. Ozean impressed him, even as he charmed Eelico's oddly cold heart.

Eelico nuzzled Ozean gently. "Of course you can stay, my friend," he said softly. "All you have to do is ask, and you may stay with us. I would be happy to have your company. And, once she gets used to it, I'm sure Mosirra will be too." He closed his eyes, and tried to ignore the thumping feeling inside of him at the close contact between his nose and Ozean's. This felt right. This was their bond, showing through once again, in Ozean's darkest hour...and that bond made Eelico happy, too.