Barrow Fields god's either dead or running on double A's

kick me out if this isn't really all welcome, mica. :P

Saltwater met his nose some hours later as he ticked miles off to the north. He knew a little bit about salty waters, though his experience with the ocean had been a fleeting sort of thing. Plus there had been an assorted amount of experiences involving some others that were a little uncomfortable that made him steer clear of it, but that was some time behind him. Months behind him, a summer behind him in honesty.

Still, he wound his way through the terrain akin to that of a snake, low and evasive though he had nothing to hide from. It was a habit, a throwback to those experiences that told him maybe he wouldn't like what he found. But at the same time his mind wandered like a wildfire, spreading rampant and uncontrolled as he pondered over the possibilities that laid ahead of him. He was hungry, but it was peckish at best. He'd find something later when it nagged at him and his strength was sufficiently sapped towards warning levels.

And then like a bolt of dark lightning over a rocky grade he spied out the wolf, pitch and dark like an inkwell his paws would never hold or encounter. Like a black hole he found himself engulfed and drawn towards him, only to play it off at the last moment of possible cover as though he were merely passing along. "Smells like ocean," he said, only halting some quarter length of his own body past the dark fellow. "Can't be far off now, is it?"