Gilded Bay Scrubs are too far down the line

With a slight back-pedalling of paws, Tide sought to put some distance between the two, his ears burning in embarrassment as the strange fellow let out a string of apologetic tones. For some reason or another, it bothered him deeply to have made that mistake, so much so that he daren't retrieve his prize for another couple of moments as his auds swivelled past their pinnacle and back to press lightly against his tanned scalp.

"It's not a problem!" he quipped rather shakily, his words falling prey to the wind as a cold sensation burned through his shoulder. Tilting his snout in a downwards arc, the mottled sir returned the gesture, blindly nosing in the area he deemed safe to be the mans' flank "It was my nose that ran into your body."

Pulling away from the strangely frosted scent of the brute, Tide recollected his thoughts one by one, bending down to scoop up the whelk in the process and burry it in the sand beside the other two. "Was this you who brought this gift to stand amongst my collection?" he queried as his muzzle brushed the rough surface of Daggfin's intrepedous journey into the sea. There certainly hadn't been two shells when he'd first came to these sands. "If so, thank you, kind sir." He tilted his head back towards where he had left the stranger, letting his tail dust the breeze in smooth, circular motions.