The Sentinels "ye young fellows that follows the sea"

Soon enough the beach gave way to gravel which in turn gave way to stonework, soil, and reedy grass. He was loathe to leave the big water that he had finally found and seen, but hunger was too great for him. The large man needed sustenance if he was to continue on with roaming and he had learned through his careless playing with the sea, that the sea was not as bountiful. He could not drink from her so easily, and the fish were nowhere to be found. He did not know that they were further out in the deeper water - likely being herded by a mammalian predator in the great blue - but it mattered little. So he made the decision to head for steady ground, and soon found himself upon a dessicated burm composed of discarded oyster shells and wilting reeds.

Further still there rose a forest, and upon first glance it took his breath away. He investigated the shells for a few minutes before turning towards the looming trees, and he headed for the safety of their shadows. The wolf made it through the fringe of the forest along a curling ridge of packed earth, and only noticed that something was different with this forest when he heard the nothingness withn. It was quiet - too quiet. There were some birds, but his approach spooked them from their roosts and afterwards, he was alone. He found little to suggest anything lived here, which hastily doused his hopes for finding a meal. But the forest held some curiosities too.

There were obvious signs of trauma to the heart of the forest; fallen trees abound throughout, and it looked as if everything was struggling to subsist through the uneven snow. He clambored atop a massive log and (upon steadying himself) carefully crept along until he could survey where the forest dropped out to a ridge, then the sea. What was this place? What had happened here?

Weather: 25°F, overcast.

After a short snowfall, Dune was able to make his way out of the weald and into a different forest to the north. There wasn't a single line that separated the two, but there was something different about this place. Trees seemed to be uprooted everywhere he looked. Dune continued to pick his way around, under, and through the trees, when he spotted another one of those freakishly odd looking creatures. It reminded him immediately of the one he had encountered about a month back, and he recoiled at the sight of it.

Hoping that the unsightly creature had not heard him, Dune put distance between the two of them, hoping to circle around the thing in a large arc. Unfortunately, the owl that had been leap-frogging him since yesterday had other plans. It had been laughing at him non-stop since it had started following him around, and Dune shot the bird a dirty look when it called again from a branch just above his head. So much for going unnoticed.

The beast's attention was ensnared by the ominous look of the trees and he felt a great sadness as he passed through each grove. Some areas were worse off than others; the old growth must have been tinder-dry when the fire started. He wondered how long it had been since the event in question, but he was no naturalist — the creature was more attuned to the ways of water and the various corridors of river, sprawling puddles of lake, and now the gargantuan big water he had found. Still, he could appreciate the horror of the forest. Perhaps it was once a beautiful and harmonious place?

He was broken from his thoughts when a sound penetrated the still air. Until now, Clarence hadn't realized how quiet the world had been. There was nothing here - or if there were, they were solemn things that had settled like spirits in among the trees. But this call was aggressive and repetitive, echoing between the withered boughs and blackened trunks. Clarence whipped his head up and around, his limp ears trying to stand tall, but he did not see a bird. Rather, he saw a pale silhouette trying to hide in the dimly overcast light that penetrated the forest.

With a small boof signifying his interest, Clarence sought to close the gap and investigate this creature. Whatever apprehensions Dune had were lost to the hybrid; he merely cut through the tangle of blackened paths and made swift work with his limber limbs. He slowed only when he came close enough to really observe the ghostly thing; something suspended from his neck, and at once Clarence was intensely interested.

He called out again - a more affirmative boom of a bark - and watched for a response from the stranger. Was this another hybrid? Had he somehow escaped from humans? This was not the first collar the creature had seen - but it had been a while, and he was keen to discern some understanding.

If the sickly-looking wolf had not heard him, it had certainly heard the annoying trill of the bird, and Dune winced at the sound. Almost immediately, the large grey... thing lumbered toward him, and Dune was on edge. It barked once, then again. Dune felt there was too much at risk to go crashing through the woods so he stood his ground, the hair on his back standing on end, making him look bigger than he already was. He did not want trouble, but he also did not like the look of this thing.

Like the one he had met a few weeks ago, it looked scrawny, sick. It smelled faintly of wolf, but it sure did not look it. Whatever it was, Dune wanted only for it to go away. His lips lifted to show teeth, and he growled defensively. The message was quite clear... but then, maybe this creature did not have even the most basic communication skills.

The warnings of the other wolf meant little to the creature, who seemed intent on investigating that thing hanging around Dune's neck. He tried to get closer but each attempt was met with further resistance: the flashing of teeth, some puffing and posturing. He knew some of those signals but chose to ignore them to the detriment of his good intentions; Clarence kept his tail high-set and wagging as if that would appease something in the stranger, however the gaiety of his domesticated instincts flew in opposition of the law of the wolf. He did not know that a raised tail could be misconstrued. He did not think about his own advancement towards the pale stranger being a threat, or how his natural height and robust size might cause worry. His long snout probed close to the pale wolf's neck as he tried to get a good taste of the collar's materials — and this too could be dangerous, for he was setting himself up for a violent rebuke if Dune did not like his pushy antics.

Instead of backing off, the thing crept closer, and Dune's growl [intensified]. It crept closer and closer, and when it was within biting range, Dune attempted just that. The idiotic creature had ignored every signal he had sent out, so this was his last resort. In a flash, he leapt forward, jaws poised for the other creature's face. Should he make contact, it was unlikely that he would let go without force.

It was stupid of him to get so close just because of his interest in the thing around the white dog's neck; but that's what he did, and he paid the price. As soon as he was within range of those fangs the stranger defended against the approaching hybrid and those teeth caught upon Clarence's face, sinking in to the thin flesh of his snout and tearing free when the creature felt the sting of pain and withdrew. The snap was quick - and the next one too, which sank in to a more substantial section of Clarence's grizzled cheek, but this time he could not pull back and be so easily freed. Blood poured from this fresh gash in the middle of his snout but the more immediate issue was Dune's hold on his face.

The creature pulled back with a whine, then side-stepped, thrust himself foreward, tried to toss his head around, but everything just hurt more and he couldn't stop the scissor-bite of the white wolf. Blood seeped from his face and splattered the soil. It stained his neck with ease, and if he wasn't able to escape soon, it was likely Dune would shift just a few inches and grab his throat — Clarence was socially inept for sure, but he knew the dangers of that and would try to escape the predicament he had forced himself in to.

Dune tasted blood, warm and thick and like iron. The creature struggled, but Dune held on for as long as he possibly could. Eventually, though, his grip faltered, and his jaws released the thing's face. The white wolf stood his ground, but he made no move to attack again. As long as the creature fled, he had no reason to injure him further. Hopefully, his message was even more clear now. Blood marred his mouth and lips, and his lips pulled back in a vicious snarl. His ears were slicked back, and the fur on his scruff stood on end, further illustrating his point.