Wheeling Gull Isle yo ho, it's a pirate's life for me!

Sorry for crap post, :p

Goliath had been sleeping deeply by the time the 'Captain' had returned, and woke up to his calling. Confused and tired, he directed his gaze to the other members, and from the reactions of the others, 'Blackbeard' was baring seemingly good news. 

He trotted down towards the where the unruly bunch were huddled, and tried to understand what was happening. They had begun to walk on the sandbar, and Goliath (in his dreary state) followed in pursuit. The deposits of fat and muscle around his legs made the problem of the temperature of the water minor, yet it was the salt that was a nuisance. 

As they came onto land, saltwater seeping into his mass of fur. He shook off any remaining water, and continued. They stopped on the banks of sand, and he realized how most of the wolves spoke in that weird dialect that the Captain had. He decided it would be a better idea to be quiet, and instead, sat and listened. 

One by one, they began to howl. A unruly song of different melodies and voices, but inspiring anyway. He stopped admiring, and began to howl himself. A deep, but still scruffy voice joined in, his thoughts blown away and replaced with the excitement that came from the calling.