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They spin across beads of water and grass, cape whipping behind them and gods does Velvet try to not think of dog tails.

But Ruby stops to grin at her and shout, “Velv, c’mon, come dance with me!” and with a contentment that fills her chest, she follows.

She quietly laughs to herself, as she kisses damp strands strewn across their forehead, that she doesn’t have to deal with the wet dog smell.