Ankyra Sound underneath the palm trees you can leave your worries

It doesn’t take long for her to work her way out of the water, seemingly having noticed the onlooker on the beach, and Arlo waits patiently on the shore. His legs have turned from white to tan in most places the fur along his lower chest and belly are clumped together from the moisture in the air. They make a rather interesting pair from afar and he can’t offer much of a solution to warm them up when he feels the bite through to his skin just the same. He isn’t as soaked but he feels it anyway.
 
“Maybe,” he says playfully with a few lazy swishes of his sand-logged tail. He tears away his stare to look beyond the shore, over the suns, into the thick of the forest. He hasn’t explored much of this area, so he doesn’t know exactly what’s on the other side, but he’s certain he can figure it out from here. “You should roll around in the grass. It’ll help dry you off and get rid of all the sand caked to you thought to get all the sand out of your fur, you’ll need to soak in freshwater. Preferably a warm spring,” he explains. There aren’t any of those nearby, he’s certain, so he just brushes it off with another award-winning smile before he bounds off toward the dunes.