Ardre’s eyelids fluttered closed as she felt a small body press up against her own, causing a small damp spot on her nightgown. She didn’t wake, too used to nighttime visitors, but she reached out a hand to play it on the otter’s thick, furred head. He sighed gratefully, and slept, too, his muzzle pressed into her palm as they walked together in dreams.

"It's about time I found you,” he said. “I looked in on you when you were a cub, shy and not very noisy. Then I looked in on you again and you were gone. I had forgotten how time passes differently.”

“Not to be rude,” she apologized, “but why were you looking for me? I don’t believe we’ve met – have we?”

“Not exactly,” he admitted with an embarrassed snort. “I promised that I’d keep an eye on you, though,” he told her, drawing closer to the young girl, as the wet, musky scent of sea otters filled her sensitive nose and she sneezed.

“Now look,” he began, “If you going to be wandering, we need to be connected in some way,” he said with a sigh, and reached deep into his thick fur to pull out a tiny shell, one that she could recognize as from the river. “Hang onto it no matter what, understand?”

She nodded, then gulped.

“Now go to sleep.”