When the first wave washes across River's toes, she startles. An instant later, she's grinning.

And a few sidesteps after that, she's ankle-deep in the incoming waves; in the trough of each wave, her bare feet sink into wet sand, and are washed clean again by the next rush of salt water.

There's no need to say anything. The wind and the gulls and the ocean say it all for them, perhaps.