Stavanger Bay fury and reason

There was no verbal response; simply a haunted gaze turned his way, and then, without preamble, the other wolf collapsed into the surf. Floki's hackles lifted in alarm and his legs tensed, caught off guard by the sudden turn of events. A quick scan of the beach revealed that there were no other wolves around; they were alone, and the stranger needed help.

He waded towards the pale wolf, ears cupped forward in caution. He found himself desperately wishing that Thistle Cloud was accompanying him. He needed her medical knowledge. He had no idea what the male needed or what was wrong with him. Floki paused, the water lapping gently against his ankles. It seemed prudent to get the wolf out of the shallows, but he doubted he could do it alone; he gnawed at his lower lip with uncertainty.

Finally, he reached down to nudge gently at the male's shoulder, a sort of experimental touch. If given a signal, he would attempt to pull him onto the shore by his scruff, but he would be tentative until he was sure his own safety wouldn't be compromised.