The Sentinels oh, a second verse!

The scout's pathway had met the coastline, finally, so since, she followed its edge onward. With nothing better, and no greater challenge rising, she began to step into the lifestyle of a beast of a seaside. While only a glimpse, it was well enough to know how different it was. From the food to the spaces, she found nothing smelled quite the same as before. The scavenging changed and even her travels seemed to meander on at a different pace--much different from when on the elevations of a range, or even the vastness of  open prairelands.

She was not so sure she liked it that much with seasalt so overwhelming (stinging, sometimes!) on her senses, but she was adaptable and eager to know more. The allure of it was just building and she, only learning.

When she finally found herself threading into a new locale of interest, one more fascinating than the waves themselves, she geared down the pace and perked. Interesting enough, it appeared to be remains of something greater ravaged--no, charred, up here upon these cliffs. It did not seem very recent, but brutally noteworthy--leaving her to wonder just how it had come to be. She went deeper in until a surprisingly fresh trail led her to pawprints. She went after them for a time to eventually find the dark female..

Painfully attentive, and certainly looking to find out more, she ghosted closer. She had not seen another for several days now, as realization reminded her when she went to offer a greeting and the best she got was a gritty, almost-chuff to engage her.. Hopefully favorably, but the scout knew better than to let expectations run faster than she could.