Cerulean Cape why do I come back for more?

Backdated! AW.

Having found safe passage across Totoka River, she now found herself at the Cape. Hydra could see the appeal in life by the ocean, but her limited experience with it still had her finding far more merit upon the mountains. There were no rabbits that moved across this sandy earth that she had yet to see; instead, there were strange things scuttling about now and then.

Now, she observed. A crab waltzed sideways, and Hydra's head tilted comically at it. Why did it move in such a manner? Was it more effective upon the sandy earth...? She attempted to mimic its maneuver, and in finding that it was not, she snorted and shook her head—why on earth did it move like this? Hydra next wondered if these things were edible. It was easy to keep pace with, but as it began to scuttle quickly Hydra found herself in a long-legged lope attempting to sniff at it—

a mistake, really. Because it's pincers found purchase upon her lip, and Hydra reeled backward with a loud, startled yelp. Her kneejerk reaction would typically not have led it to release, but as she swung her head it did so, leaving only her pride wounded as she squinted in its direction with a face that bespoke her foul mood. She looked around her and pawed at her face for a moment, her lip smarting—but as she licked her chops she tasted no blood.

Nynka had never really been much of an oceangoer herself. She wove in and out among the sandy-rooted trees with her little black nose atwitch, and her head craned up and catching occasional glimpses of the lapping waves. It was a strange place, smelling mostly of salt and green water, and whilst others may have thought the sunny beach a lovely vacation spot, the main thing that Nynka took note of was that most any sort of worthwhile prey animal seemed like it disagreed. She did spy a tiny crustacean, barely any larger than her own dainty browning paw, and chased after it for just a moment before it scuttled back under the sand with only a final clack of its claws to rebuke her. Nynka dug her claws into its little sandy hidey-hole for the space of a few breaths, more out of curiosity than hunger. The walls of its burrow collapsed with speedy ease, however, and the effort of feeding that curiosity quickly grew to be more than it was worth. Nynka left it as a bad job and bounded onward.

A puff of a breeze blew more than just a bit of loose sand at her. Nynka stopped in the shade of a palm and gave her coat a quick shimmy followed by a sneeze; her pelt might not be pure white anymore, but that certainly didn't mean she wanted big scoops of itchy sand caught up in it. She was not finding herself particularly impressed by any of this landscape and did not in the least intend to carry any of it home with her. She had resolved to travel at least to the end of this last stand of trees, however, just to make sure she wasn't missing out on anything worth exploring before she turned for home. But in addition to the monotonous salty ocean air, that breeze had brought her inquiring nose a strong waft of wolf. Nynka tweaked her nose in disgruntlement but slunk forth anyway, to see what might have brought the canine to this rather boring place. With not a lot else to do perhaps this wolf girl might provide some entertainment —

With speed and stealth Nynka eeled forward and poked her head out from behind the thick trunk of the last palm in line. She blinked, and twitched her ears, and watched in puzzlement as the wolf moved about the beach in a most curious manner. It didn't seem to be going much of anyplace, only flailing ineffectually about in the most bizarre and mostly-sideways manner... what the hell? Was it injured, or perhaps severely ill?! A fever on the brain seemed to Nynka to be the likeliest explanation, at least until the wolf suddenly shook off her seeming brain ailment and went cantering gracefully along in a suddenly perfectly straight span of sandy pawprints. Curiouser and curiouser! Nynka inched forward a few inquiring steps, intent on getting a better look at what the wolf was suddenly chasing, on the off-chance it might be something worth stealing from the disordered canine. If the wolf was really that troubled in the head then it ought to be a relatively simple matter to swipe the creature out from under it.

But the creature being chased looked only to be another crab, a few times larger than the first Nynka had seen, true, but still of somewhat dubious edibility in her mind. Yet if Nynka was unsure weasels could ingest such a creature, she was almost dead certain wolves could not—apparently more evidence, if any were needed, of this particular wolf having her head screwed on wrong. But all thoughts of whether or not to steal a kill were swept from Nynka's mind by the sudden and quite dramatic screech of surprise that escaped from the wolf. Nynka jerked back in startlement herself, but then couldn't contain her own, nearly-as-loud laughter as the yelping wolf went rearing up with the crab attached below the whiskers. Nynka took back every mean thing that had ever crossed her mind about the beach: this was by far the most entertaining thing she had seen all day, and well worth the trip. Kehehe keheheeee! You're going to have to try harder'n that if you want your schnozz to match yer ear there, wolf! Or did that big mean crab's brother already take a chunk o' ya earlier? Keheheheee! With that notion the Dread Wolf-Hunting Crab had just become her new favorite species, even if its staying power looked to be pretty crap. Hardly a flick of the wolf's head and already the little creature had gone flying—gonna have to do better than that buddy, if you want to hunt yourself some wolves.

sorry, i was shadowposted and didn't realize it.  i've edited accordingly (i think).

The harbinger clung close to the coastline, his youthful and shivering form nestled close to the shimmering sands.  On first sight he assumed her to be an apparition, a hallucination, a trick of the eye.  The more he studied her with his acid eyes, the more he realized that in a perfect world they would have looked exactly the same.  They had the same notch in the same ear, the same eldritch hue to their pelts, and apparently the same dangerous curiosity.

He watched from a safe distance as she scuttled alongside the crab and the corners of his lips twitched upwards.  When it bit her, his eyes widened in surprise, and he ducked closer to the sand.  Her head shook wildly as she attempted to dislodge the unwanted passenger from her lip, and with a puff of sand the creature fell.  A white rodent appeared to heckle his distant twin.

By the look on her face, it would not be a good time to reveal himself.  Still, he could not slink away without being unseen.  He cast her a look and began to make his way across the beach, towards the fields in an attempt to look innocuous.  He would pass the pair along his way; if the female asked him to stop he would.  Otherwise, he would be content to go about his day.

Hydra removed her foreleg from her face when she heard the loud and obnoxious screeching of something. Her tail lashed behind her when she turned to seek out just what the source was and when she saw it, she could not help but squint at it. This thing was unlike anything Hydra had ever seen. It's hue was distinct enough, too, to also leave a lasting impression. Her eyes flit to a wolf who was very clearly passing through before returning to the weasel.

She elected to say nothing, though marched instead in the direction she had thrown the critter, a light skip in her step. The way she had thrown it, it had landed on its back, and she picked it up by its leg and chucked it at the volatile loud mouth, hoping that it would snap its crabby claws at the other and get a nice little pinch in for her own retribution once it landed. Of course there was no telling how it would land. Hydra simply wanted the other to get a taste of the acrid medicine she had ingested.

Sorry to make you edit, J! Thanks for doing so, though; works just fine  :) 

In Nynka's mind, the elaborate facade continued to build: the crustacean had obviously found itself hungering that morning, and the small but ambitious critter had lured the canine into its trap with ease. All it had had to do was to scurry along a tempting little sideways stroll, and beckon the big hairy beast onward with a few waves of its red-streaked claws—possibly a little more red-streaked now, after their first physical contact was made with the target. It would be a long and grueling battle, but bit by bit, the creature could chip away it its foolish prey until at last the meat was subdued...

The canine was pawing at her face, appearing severely embarassed by her part in this little tale as best as a little weasel could tell—as well she should be, having let such a pathetic small creature get the better of her. It wasn't even half so fast or one-tenth as clever as a weasel, from what Nynka could see; even a wolf hadn't much excuse letting themselves be bested in this way. Nynka paid little heed to the distant shadows on the sand as she concocted her mental narrative, the lore of the Dread Wolf-Hunting Crab looming ever-larger, whilst her nose took little note of the strengthened and differently-flavored canine musk carried on the fitful breeze. She was too distracted by the antics of the crab and the first wolf—until the second canine started creeping across the sands toward the beckoning pale grasses that marked the ragged edge of the beach proper. Then her eyes snapped onto him, that crawling motion of attempted stealth tripping some suspicious circuit in her brain. She fixed him with a beady black eye and then raised her lips in a fierce and toothy mocking parody of a grin.

Come to join in the fun? she inquired oversweetly. But she was distracted from listening for his answer by a sudden whistling just above her ear, which surprised her into crouching just a little too late. But the weasel seemed to have lucked out: the psychotic crab with its newly-acquired power of flight had flown just a little too high, a little too far to smack into her, for all the frantic waving of its clacking brown-speckled claws it could muster. Kehehee—you missed! she screeched gleefully at the first wolf as she danced tauntingly about. Her bouncing arcs sent her long sleek body darting unpredictably through the air, like a demented furry fish able to leap over and over from the seas of sand.

What Nynka didn't notice in her eager jeering however, was where and how the crab did come to rest. Instead of connecting with her, it thocked solidly against a coconut tree, bounced off, and with skittering spiky legs spun awkwardly across the sand until it hit a rock at just the wrong angle and managed to flip itself right back onto its carapace with a much quieter thud against the sand. Mr. Crab was not having a good day. His legs scrabbled futilely at the air once more, grasping desperately for purchse but only barely managing to gently rock him back and forth on the gritty beach's surface, whilst his clasping pincers only managed to dig long wavery furrows in the same. Nynka was too busy crowing over the wolf's terrible aim to pay much attention to where her leaping feet were landing, right up until the crab's legs tickled their sides whilst her nimble, tidy right rear paw landed in their midst. Mr. Crab was at first alarmed and then relieved to find that the impact had finally flipped him upright once more when his feet finally connected properly with the sand and gravel below once more. Nynka, on the other hand, squeaked in surprise and went rocketing right back up into the air.

Mr. Crab's angry pinching claws went grabbing after her, but fortunately only just barely managed to connect with the end of one of Nynka's long whiskers. That tweaked painfully, but didn't do any real damage. What stunned her more was when her flailing somersaulting escape sent her whooshing past the sideways-scuttling crab and straight into a coconut trunk of her own, as her limber back measured its full length against the wood with the solidest of thunks yet. Nynka ricocheted back off it and almost managed to catch herself by her forefeet, until their own outsplayed claws sent up a fine spray of sand that caused her to sneeze, lose her balance, and end up solidly face-first in the loathsome gritty salt of the beach. She yanked her head up, spluttering and raking a clearing forepaw of her own across her face. This was not what she had had in mind for her next meal, not by a long shot!

Hydra observed the whole thing with rapt attention, heeding the other wolf only with the swivel of her ear—it indicated she was aware of his presence, but had little reason to find true interest in it given his own perceived intent—and even as the other jeered, Hydra delighted, because she could see what was about to unfold.

What she observed was the wilds equivalent of pinball, and Hydra snickered quietly, taking the results she witnessed as a victory. The spluttering of the critter was icing on the cake, and Hydra lifted her chin and grinned in a hmph manner, before peering back at the wounded lump. She had understood not a word of what the weasel had said, only that its sound had been jeering and sounded rude. Her inexperience with weasels was to blame for that. She thought of witty things to say, but in believing the animal would not understand her she elected to not respond verbally at all. Who was crazy enough to talk to a weasel, anyway? They were food. This weasel was lucky she was not feeling particularly hungry. Her blue eyes drifted from the animal to the waters, still cognizant of the others presence.

Growing bored, Hydra, pleased to have caught a crab... even if it truly had caught her... at all decided she had accomplished something, and what was she doing wasting her time with a weasel? There was more to be done. And so she quit the company of the creature and the wolf, ears cupped backward should they follow.