Gilded Bay your bones are the spires of Stockholm

Dark, please read posts more closely and pay attention to the setting. These two characters are beside the ocean and one is standing in a tidepool; not a stream, not swimming, and there are generally no falling leaves during spring. You also cannot choose if our characters hear your character mumbling or not, as that constitutes powerplaying.

She has cleared the tidepool of what it offered, and disappointment is brief in the splay of ears to the sides. "Aw, drat," he murmurs, his blue gaze dropping from her face to peer at the seawater around her feet. He had fed not long ago, but small game did not go far, and he feels the renewed burn of hunger deep within his gut. Like cattle out to pasture, the lone wolf was to be forever grazing to keep their strength up, unless one was so blessed as to take a young mammal or happen upon a sizeable carcass with flesh left to spare.

She asks if he knows of fresh water nearby, and he shakes his head. His paws had covered much ground between here and the last place he paused for a drink. "'Fraid not," he answers with an apologetic shrug of his broad shoulders. "The last bit I found was a ways back south, before I took to the coast." His train of thought is interrupted as another approaches... and leaps behind a rock. The behavior is odd, and Rexxar's brows drop over his eyes as the corner of his mouth tugs sideways with question.

"Sorry for the brief chat, but I am going to head down the coast to see if any goodies have washed up on the beach. Take care!" Rexxar dips his head to the female and moves along at a brisk trot.

Rexxar exits.