The flaw of such a vast expanse of water and cliff, after the initial surprise and interest wore off and salt started to cake on their fur instead, was that it made it very difficult to actually hear or scent anything. Nose and ears were not so useful when the wind wouldn't stop howling and the air smelled of very little other than fish and salt. Maybe it wasn't like this all the time? But even if, it would be a trick to manage when you were half-blind based entirely on weather--
The voice that came, very suddenly, from behind them, did nothing to disprove that point.
When they turned around it was, at least, unhurried. If the someone in question had any hostile intent, there was no point in speaking. Not when Renard was so conveniently perched on what felt like the edge of the world. No getting up from a plunge like that.
"Not what I was expecting." Only a handful of minutes and Renard could already feel their fur tangling up, whether that was salt or wind or both. This one seemed to have it worse -- clearly he'd been around the sea for longer than they had. Had more practice. They clicked their tongue. "I've heard it described as a big lake. It seems more like the end of the world."
Renard kept an eye out as the man approached. Just for safety, certainly understandable. Well, they wouldn't be offended if someone was a little antsy standing on a cliff; it was just good sense. This one didn't seem to mind -- pulled himself right up to the cliff's edge, peered over to the white water and rocks below. Whether that was brave or just foolish...
The stranger's words so perfectly followed that line that Renard laughed. "Strange how frequently those two things seem the same."
They gave the scene another long look. So far out nobody could hope to measure the distance, the line between sea and sky was barely visible at all. Whether that was truly an end or not, like the water dropped off the edge of the world into empty space...well, it didn't matter. Maybe someone someday would swim it, but they wouldn't be coming along. Might as well be.
"Don't know what stories you were told as a kid, but I remember plenty of mine. Everything needs an end, some shit like that. The world can't just go on forever, right?" The wolfdog shrugged. "If I had to pick, this end seems as good as any."
It had always seemed to Renard that the idea of an ending made every inevitable mistake more bearable, in a sort of cheerful nihilistic way, but then they had hardly been the proverbial popular kid in school.
Nonetheless.
They shrugged, returning the smile. "Nobody," they said, and swept their muzzle to indicate the whole expanse of sea and sky. "I don't know about you, but I won't swim that. And I don't expect it to dry up anytime soon. If there is anything past that, I won't be seeing it."
"I can imagine they would be some long stories," Renard offered wryly in exchange. "Are there any you have to tell?"
Most of the stories Renard had heard were to import the inevitable moral. Maybe their family was just less positive than others when it came down to it – even as they’d left they were still a bit nervous walking the forests around their home on their own, hearing all those tales of the raven monsters who snatched children out of the shadows, even though they weren’t a child and also knew everyone who had those tales was just full of it.
Which was…probably the point of a good tale?
The wolfdog huffed. “Oh? All right, then.” They took a pause to consider. Still looking at the cliff, at the waves and the sky and the grey-white birds that were wheeling past in the air – “Well, we were talking about the end of the world. How about adventure?”