Ankyra Sound you were swept ashore like bottles holding prayers

as sunlight palely waned overhead the dark-furred wolf made for the open part of the sandy swath, turning inland as he identified his brother's lone figure silhouetted against the tide. even from this distance he could see the melancholy that clung to lycaon's bones - he knew, just as his brother knew, that wylla had not been here.

at least not in recent memory -- not that the raw rinds and the whipping tide did anything to preserve evidence of any wolf's passing.

a grim expression coalesced ingram's features. "no," he agreed, his gaze trailing towards the sequoia ridden treeline. perhaps they would have better luck in the copse, where the elements were not so cruel and life was perhaps less dreary. ingram couldn't imagine any place as dreary and foreboding as the sound -- he imagined lycaon felt worse about revisiting this place.

"we could try there." he motioned to the tall giants, whose trunks shook like stilled leviathans and boughs uncurled like iron-wrought hands. he thought the forest strangely inviting, in a mystic and somewhat eerie way.