Sea Lion Shores landscape tantrums

Tagging @Doe for visibility.

The heat of summer lingered upon the air despite the deep dark of the night, and the thickness of the salty air could be felt by anything that walked the earth. It was heavy. The humidity alone was surprisingly weighted, as if to clot the very breath within one's lungs. These were not issues for her — they never would be — for she, granddaughter, could watch from the safety of the endless space.

As she drifted against the currents, as her held breath began to expire, she ascended from the great pit and breached the surface, nose first. A brief exhalation told those of the coast that she was nearby. It did not matter to her that anyone knew; there was minimal light at this hour, and her hide was a sleek inkstain.

As the spray from her breath formed a mist above the seemingly endless creature, the beasts of the coast took notice, and with surprising agility they began to rouse one another and lurch further from her reach — a pity. These blubber-filled things would have made a filling breakfast.