[SE] we counted galaxies

Amalia She follows him along the sands, already barefoot but ready to divest her other possessions: the bracer made by Remi, the bag in which she carries their lunch, the other odds and ends she carries around. And then the dress, only her breastband and underwear remaining. She turns around, stripped down and shvering- -just in time to watch appreciatively as his bare ass makes its way into the sea. A grin flashes across her face, underneath her blush; with a bright laugh the girl shakes her head, raising hands to finish tying back her hair before making her own way to the shoreline. Her strides are swift until they are not, the first kiss of water sneaking up her toes and causing her to stop with a squeak. "It's cold!" the Shield declares indignantly as the ocean reaches up her feet, toes curling with every wave that dares encroach upon her ankles. It really is terribly far from cold, and she is being comically overdramatic, but Amalia is a waif with little excess fat or insulation; chill bites easily into her bones. As though a reflex her skin begins to change, otter fur manifesting on the parts exposed to the sea, though the remainder of her remains rather comically human. "How are you just fine, when it's freezing?" reach for the stars: but child, first recognize the constellations of light you already carry inside you