Shimmering Sands let me be your killer king

What brought him, indeed. He did not know. Aside from the need to wander, procure meat for his belly and water for his tongue, he had no reason to be here. The salt of the sea was not something he could feast upon. The shore was far too foreign to him to be of use, and in his current state the young ronin was at a loss for what to do next. He merely shrugged, and turned his deviated gaze upon the swarthy stranger; instantly he squinted, half closing the eye with the ink-blot of pupil, because it hardly helped him to view the other wolf. The stranger was a blurry mess to that eye, and so Tetsubo disregarded what he saw with it.

I am without a master, he concluded, as if this answer was all that the other beast required of him. That this sentiment would lift the fog of confusion and spread some sort of knowledge—but the gray boy, prone upon the sand, already knew that this place was a far cry from his home, and thus he would need to speak at length to explain himself. It was not something he felt eager to do, though, so he remained grim and silent for a bit longer, relishing the quiet, and the lull of the sea.

I think... I was in search of something. Before I was hit. I do not know what hit me, and so he cast his gaze around, looking to the sand and the soil, at the crushed grass which had been flattened by his body as it had connected following its brief flight, and saw the ridge upon which he had been standing - but there was no memory of that moment. Nor any thought of the hungry animal which had driven him over the edge. It must be gone now. Curious. But it mattered little. He needed to recover before this stranger, whoever they were, decided to make him a target—or so his instincts told him.