He has one consuming vision of peace and order all within his realm of control- as much control as a four month old pup could have, anyway. Across the sand he lugs a driftwood stump wrought from the sea, roots and all, to make good on his promise for a fort where he and Ava could camp. He’d chosen a west facing site right off the shore. It wasn’t near the tide pools so feeding would be a trek, but it was the most ideal area because it was remote, and now it would be their side of the island.
He's had fun digging out the base, arranging rough pieces of wood then ornamenting the sides with ordinary things he’d found; tall stalks of sea oat and cordgrass and the stringy fibers from giant fruits. The result was a sort of disguise. It wasn’t just a home; it was a secret hideout.
He couldn't wait to show Ava!
Spirits croaked.
As did the bellies of looming fireflies.
From the direction which the ocean brought him to their shores, he had been traversing the east. Off the coast, where the wood of the island gave coverage, he'd found tall sea-grasses and strong strands of kelp. Isolated, where he wanted to be; somewhere that spoke sacred to him and somewhere that would not cause trouble for the people of the island.
It was on his walk along the beach that big eyes, small ears, and miscolored iris' struck his gaze in moonlight.
The night had been good for travels, where it was quiet, and he was of no disturbance to the families and their children.
The topaz-eyed little one vanished. It was slow that he traced the child's steps- until things came to a stop. Nakano no longer saw him. With a dip of his muzzle, he saw patches of fur along weeds and fibers.
Much like what he needed.
With a careful nudge, he pushed his nose against the fibers..
A shadow falls over the reed walls. The wind outside is suddenly so still. Tme stagnates. The night produces monsters and cowards.
Into solid ice he stills with only a shivering note of fear trifling between tongue and teeth. In a single abrupt fall he trundles himself into the tightest ball possible; paws cradling head, nose into belly, and tail curling up around his shoulder.
Not real, not real!
The reeds were pushed.
Inside, a tiny wolf with a hidden face and shaking tail. Curled, wrapped away as if he were a shattered trinket in a violent sea. For his pieces, he searched and clung to for dear life. How sad- and pitiful. He gave his pity.
Before his mighty voice called through the brush in a low rumble in the holy night. "You've no need to fear me," he commanded, coaxing the little one towards his relaxation. They were tranquil. There was no need for dramatics. "We share the same moon tonight." It did. When the reeds shook and chimed as he removed his head, moonlight touched through the cracks and blanketed lines across Judah.
Turning his flank to the entry, he looked with expanding intrigue. "Your soul is innovative. You've made something for impression." For his work, he complimented it in whole-heart. He imagined the work upon his tiny feet and frail teeth had been quite a toll. He looked over each decorative piece from the outside- or how its decor of earthly binds blended so naturally to its surrounding world. Little would have drawn him to put eyes upon it, if not for footprints. He'd seen little of the inside, and he would not peer further with his petrification.
A man’s voice rasps.
The cub flinches and coils tighter, smearing an arm up over his head to reveal one impossibly-wide silver eye.
It is a wolfman, and not a monster, who has pushed through the reedy wall of the hideout. Preciously slow, Judah untangles his limbs and wavers into a stand.
“I’m n-not scared!” He insists loudly! His limbs rattle.
He stares at the tall stranger, still much too wary to acknowledge the compliment, but glances about the little earthen dome that was to be Ava’s refuge.
“It’s for my baby sister,” he explains, “we’re going to live here.” And then with the terrified realization that this man could tattle on him he takes a stubborn stride forward, little paw striking the sand for emphasis.
“It’s a secret! You can’t tell no one!”
"Don't raise your tone with me, boy."
In his chest, his voice came from a deep chasm that echoed in the chambers of his worldliness- the chiming bells of his time. The sparks of anger one might choose to see were irrelevant. He was more. He had no time for it. Only discipline. Only sight beyond touch, and a view casted towards the sky that raised day by day, and they must chase it, in order to taste the light of God and his glory.
Judah must learn.
His head rose, and from the crevice of den Judah had formed, he departed in order to nose the wonder of the air outdoors. The freedom of it. He preferred the breeze, the closeness of the sea, and the gentle brushes it gave his skin. They're one, as flesh to bone.
"There's none to tell." In steady, powerful strides forward that took him away from the boy, but closer to his search, he felt the shocks of the seas soul upon his fingertips. "Your privacy is your own. Your secrets yours to tell. Your sister should love it. You must have put rich work into it."
“I-I’m n-not boy, mister,” he peeps. The dominance of the seaman had him huddled over again and shaking like a hapless fledgling, tail tucking protectively over his belly.
“I’m J-J-Judah,” he flinches, the cowardly quiver of his own voice humiliating in his ears.
His ears fall but he keeps his eyes forward, poking his head out of the hole to spy on the mysterious figure. He was like a creature from the sea with the same glass bones and wafer eyes. He gathers up all the courage he has to clog his throat with it.
“W-who are you?”