Sea Lion Shores a road in louveciennes

Ness had been carrying a bad mood on her shoulders for a while, albeit unknowingly. It affected the way she hunted and slept, but as soon as she realized her perpetual decay, the white wolf defaulted to what she knew best: running. When she ran, it was without thought or effort. A childhood on the tundra had brazened her for endurance, and her lope took her quite far before she tired and rested an hour or so. She sated her thirst and caught a small vole to touch her belly, but she quickly resumed her enduring task, eager to drain herself of all the negative energy that had accumulated in her recently.

She ran and ran, slowing to a long-legged cant when the barks of sea lions— mingling with the coltish song of a wolf— drew her towards the shore. Cresting a grassy knoll, she peered down to see a lissome blonde wolf baying foolishly before a pack of sea lions. She knew their kind, and Ness didn't trust any creature that could survive the icy tundra sea as these creatures could. Her tail lashed back and forth, and she called down to the wolf. "You may want to stop that. It's getting pretty close to their season— might be a little territorial, yeah?"