Sea Lion Shores she's the first in line at the party

@Ford! Hope this's alright
a light dusting of snow covered the strand, forming unstable drifts against the tallest ridges of sand. the greyscale huntress stiffened her shoulders against the wind that sought to constantly destroy and rebuild the drifts, icing over the smaller of the pools. in the winter, and the magic was leached from this shore; she remembered haze cloud touched skies and refletions in pools, not the best of times, but idealized and romantasized now. whatever is meant to be for us will come true. she huffed, standing then and moving towards the sea, wading in up to her hocks and waiting for the bitter cold of it to remind her of the here and now. it was not as cold as she would have expected, but it was enough, and her thoughts turned instead to the hunt and her next meal, and whether or not the ocean would yield anything edible in this season.

thank you so much for making this <3

The wraith had ventured out on that day. His limbs had carried him away from the borders of his bay and into the vast stretch of oceanside and beach. There was plenty of time, he imagined. After having marked the edges of their land, his sights were set on the distance. He followed for miles until he caught wind of another – a stranger – and paused. It was there on the beach that he saw the outline of her shape first. The calculated glint of his mismatched gaze was locked tightly on her form as the waves lapped gently against her limbs and the shore. For a long moment, Ford did not move from his spot. He watched to see if she would leave the water, or if there was something that had called her attention. When she did not move away, he continued to move forward and changed his path so that he could draw closer.
 
The length of his limbs made quick work of the space between them. He moved with a swaying figure, and his massive frame seemed to resemble a prowling jaguar instead of a seaside hound. When he had found that his paws had touched the edge of the water, he drew his crown upward and released a loud enough chuff that she would know he was there. Then, he ceased to move altogether and waited to see if she would turn to meet him.

there was a prickle along her spine, one she disregarded. muzzle hung low over the water's surface, inching downward at gaze sought out the same shadows and ripples she'd learned to look for in the ponds and rivers. the ocean was a different sort of beast, and silt obscured the shadows that may have been prey or floating weeds. there came the prickle again, the sound of sand underpaw. the chuff came a moment later and she peered over her shoulder at its source; a looming titan that seemed almost part of the sea and shore. "hello," the greeting came after a moment, and she shifted within the shallows so that she may better face him, but made no move yet to come to shore. he stood with quiet confidence. "you're the first I've seen along the shore. is it always so empty?" there was little of the life and light the had distracted from the vast stretch of these shores when she'd been here last; in the winter, drained of colour and life, it seemed almost desolate.

The girl greeted him while remaining in the same area that he had found her. The dark warhound did not bend in his gaze; he swallowed everything that he could in a hope to understand the girl who stood before him. Ford did not want to be left to a scenario that he could not manage. He had not always been so good at talking to others. He had learned a lot in his growth and his distance from his father. The world was such an intriguing place, and he had more than enough space in his mind to fill it with his own tricks.

The question that arose from her was unexpected. In all the times that Ford had wandered the seaside, he had always managed to find someone else out there. His dark lips curled upward in a small and ghostly smile. He wavered his tail between his hocks three times before it fell into a still lingering state. “I think it depends on where you're looking,” the titan answered. “There are several packs who call the coast their home.” Then, he canted his head ever so slightly to the left before taking another step toward her.

“Where are you settled right now?”

evidently, not in the right places. "do you belong to one of them?" brine and wind obscurred his scent for the most part, but he lacked the ragged edges, travelworn pelt that would mark him as a longer. rather, he is the epitome of something wild, confident in his looming form. there is something alluring in the strangeness of him. "further inland - Lost Creek Hollow. a day or two's travel." ears pricked, turn slightly toward him as she waits for his voice in turn. the morningsider - for she will always be such - is reminded of dozens of trips made as an ambassador to her pack, the desire to know who and what hunts these lands alongside her own, and her intrest is piqued.

I lead one of them, he responded to her with a ghost of a smile. Then, the titan gestured down the beach with his muzzle to signify that was where he meant. The bay was a good stretch away from them, but he would have sworn that he could hear the sounds of his wolves - those of the rift. When he turned back to the woman, she had mentioned where she lived. Inland a few days travel... Ford had never been that far from the beach. It caused him to wonder what had drawn her so far from her home. Was it curiosity that caused you to travel out here? the warhound inquired with a canting of his head.

he was a leader; some months ago, that would have sparked a seperate discussion, perhaps. but for now she merely followed his gaze, staring further down the strand and imagining that distant point as the man's dominion. "what is it called?" it was his question that drew her attention back to him, and her auds flickered atop her head. "something like that." she was content, almost, to leave it at that, but something bade her - perhaps the flicker of hope that some of her own may have ended up under this man's leadership - to elaborate. "I led a pack north-east of here. Our territory burned some months ago, and most scattered - I hoped to find some sign of them here." She'd though surely Catori would bring her half-siblings back to the coast, but surely, then, she would have gone to Undersea. brow furrowed a fraction, but her expression did not shift.

The woman asked him what his pack was called. He met her gaze with his and peered at her features with a calculating expression. “Stormrift,” the warhound responded with a small dipping of his muzzle. The chilling breeze that was carried on the ocean swept through the dark hairs of his neck and shoulders. He felt the touch of winter that still clung to it. Still, the massive sea wraith did not shudder against the cold. Ford had known worse chills than that in his life.
 
When the stranger mentioned that she had once led a pack to the north of them that had burned away, the titan could not help the intense expression that his face adopted. His brow furrowed sharply over his dual-toned eyes. He latched the glimmering and hollow pools on her face without even blinking once. There was a thoughtful frown that both creased his brow and caused his dark lips to curl downward.
 
“Donnelaith?”

stormrift. a name fitting a pack led by a man such as the one before her; one she would one day like to see. the wind over the wave pushed and tugged at her pelt; the man was still and as was she, for she'd inheritted the thick mantle of her father's line. the man's face adopted a sudden intensity then, lips adopting a thoughtful frown. her own brow furrowed a fraction in reaction to this sudden turn of face, but his next question made it obvious he thought her someone else. for a beat, she knew not if Donnelaith was a name or a pack, she decided the latter must be true. a shake of her head, and "no—Morningside. it was my father's pack before mine." again, the latter piece of information was not required, and she wondered a moment why she supplied it. perhaps, she thought, she wished to instill pieces of their story in strangers, so it may in some way live on.

There was a burning feeling when she spoke the name of a pack that meant less than nothing to him. He didn't know the wolves of Morningside, and he didn't care to; he found a surprising disappointment that she had not been referring to the woodland pack called Donnelaith. This emotion did not register on his intense features. Instead, Ford nodded his head with an understanding smile. It was as though he was shaking off his own emotions right in front of the girl. He hoped that he might run into someone who had known his mother's former pack – the girl on the beach would not be that person to him.

“Seems to be a common thing, then; packs burning away,” he remarked to her in a somber tone of voice. “You made a new home for yourself, then?” the wraith then inquired with a curious tilting of his crown. The mismatched colors of his eyes were latched tightly to her; it seemed as though he was devouring every answer that she gave.

there is an intensity to his features that seems to devour her every word and swallow it whole, an intensity to all of him. his tone is somber when he speaks again, and she dips her head. "perhaps." she remembers the burnt-out husks of the trees adi and herself passed through all those months ago, giants felled, some so huge they'd had to go around (or over, with no shortage of effort). surely this is to what he refers, and she commits this scrap of information to memory. 

"found one - the Hollow is a good place." it will not ever be what Morningside was to her. the cold of the sea begins to feel uncomfortable, now, and her pawpads are numb. she shifts, drawing herself from the waves and regretting it the moment the wind burns through the drenched fur. it makes her eager to move, but the man and his odd intensity are too interesting for a hasty goodbye. "I never got your name - I'm Dawn." 

For a moment, he wondered if his speculation had caused her discomfort. She seemed to think on his words for a moment before she offered her name, saying that she had never gotten his. The swarthy hound nodded his head to her, filling his mind with her moniker and the colors of her cloak so that he would not forget it soon enough.

“I am called Ford. How far inland is your hollow?” the titan returned to her carefully. He thought it would be worth a trek away from his beloved ocean if it meant that he would find himself in the company of someone as kindly as Dawn had been. She presented herself well; he had found himself intrigued by her very nature.

she pinned the name to the face easily, considering it fitting. "a day or two's travel, at most. an easier trek if you know which territories to avoid." the morass and mire were best detoured, as she had no desire to wad through stinking mud only to emerge and cut up her legs on that great expanse of rock. 

speaking of which, she doubted it would reflect well if the newest recruit were away for days at a time, and she sought to end that habit that had drawn her so far from Morningside time and time again. "I should go back, though I would like to visit Stormrift sometime in the future."