Ocean Kisses

Let Me?

Doc pov

He stayed nestled up to me for what felt like hours, the soft morning light illuminating the cave and casting a peaceful glow over everything. I knew I should have moved—should have started another fire to ward off the lingering chill—but I couldn’t bring myself to. I didn’t want to disturb him. For the first time since this strange encounter began, he seemed calm, and I didn’t want to ruin it.

Eventually, though, he started to stir. His ears twitched first, then his tail, and finally, his eyes blinked open, golden and sharp even in the muted light. He looked up at me, his expression groggy but alert, and for a moment, we just stared at each other.

It was a small, silent connection, but it felt meaningful. I smiled softly, trying not to make any sudden movements. “Morning,” I murmured, my voice quiet and gentle.

He didn’t respond—of course he didn’t—but his ears twitched slightly at the sound of my voice, a sign that he was at least listening.

Feeling emboldened by his lack of immediate aggression, I tentatively reached a hand toward him. I’d been itching to pet him for hours, to feel the softness of his fur and maybe, just maybe, show him that I wasn’t a threat. But the moment my hand got too close, a low, rumbling growl started deep in his chest.

I froze, pulling my hand back slightly but not completely. “Oh, come on,” I said, half exasperated, half amused. “You came to me. This is your fault.”

His growl deepened, his ears pinning back against his head, and I let out a small sigh, dropping my hand entirely. “Fine, fine. No touching. Got it.”

He huffed, his tail flicking slightly as if to punctuate his point, but he didn’t move away. Instead, he simply watched me for a moment longer before slowly getting up and stretching, his form elongating in a way that was both graceful and wolfish.

As he moved, I noticed again just how thin he was, the lines of his ribs and the sharp angles of his frame more pronounced in the morning light. Concern tugged at my chest, and I made a mental note to offer him more food later—though I’d have to be more careful about what I gave him this time.

For now, though, I stayed where I was, watching as he padded around the cave, his nose twitching as he sniffed at the remnants of the fire. “Don’t worry,” I said lightly. “I’ll get it going again. Just… don’t bite me while I do, okay?”

He glanced at me, his golden eyes narrowing slightly, but there was no growl this time. Taking that as a sign of cautious acceptance, I started gathering the materials for a new fire, all the while keeping an eye on my unusual, and still very wary, companion.

As I began collecting materials for a new fire, he trotted along beside me, his steps light and deliberate, his golden eyes never leaving me. It was as though he’d appointed himself my shadow, watching my every movement with a mixture of curiosity and wariness.

I tried not to let his constant attention unnerve me. He wasn’t growling anymore, which I took as a small victory, but the intensity of his gaze made me hyper-aware of every twig I picked up and every step I took.

“You’re really making sure I don’t mess this up, huh?” I said softly, glancing at him out of the corner of my eye. He flicked an ear at the sound of my voice but didn’t respond in any other way, his focus unwavering.

The closer I got to the pile of dried, sand-covered wood from before, the closer he stuck to me. At one point, his nose brushed my hand as I reached for a particularly large piece of driftwood, and I froze instinctively. He didn’t growl this time, just sniffed at the wood briefly before pulling back, his tail flicking once as if to say, “Carry on.”