Sequoia Coast i am the universe wrapped in skin

While Thuringwethil enjoys the feel of the salty water soaking into her fur, she knows she can’t linger in pleasure for long. Her purpose for coming to the shore may have been to settle her own soul but she knows to make use of the trip and her eyes scan the crevices of the river outlet for seaweed that may have washed up.

A chuff catches her attention, nose clouded with salt, and she glances over her shoulder to see a wolf she doesn’t recognize. Her gaze turns to Toxochelys then and she lifts her nose, hoping to keep him settled and in place—a guard is meant to remain a fixture in the background and to come forward when needed—and Thuringwethil pivots out of the water to approach the call.

“Hello,” she calls out and while she holds a dominant posture, she forces herself to relax in a neutral zone rather far from her home. She doesn’t know the nearby pack she’d passed on the last trip but his scent reminds her vaguely, if she’s able to recollect it clearly enough.