“Yes,” she said with relish. She sat up and poured sand over his other foot, making a moue when the waves washed some of it away. Busily she added more, piling it high, and grinned up at him. “I have figured out how to catch a werewolf. You are my prisoner.”
“Oh no, whatever will I do,” he murmured sarcastically, eyes glinting with amusement as he lay back on his elbows, watching her curiously. “You know — I could break free with just a twitch, but I’m behaving myself right now.”
Archly, she replied, “Oh, really? Behaving? What’s /mis/behaving then?” She piled more sand up his leg, shaping it to the curves and swells, licking at the side of her mouth as she contemplated her next step. She scooped a big hole next to him, piling the wet sand over his knee, and then shrieked grumpily as a bigger-than-usual wave came in and washed most of it away.