Dragoncrest Cliffs for the arms that hold me

Thuringwethil is not on her brief patrol for long but she does keep an eye out to see to make sure the guardians remain. They linger for a while now that the storm has gone, the test is over, but why are they still there? Her ears remain attentive, waiting for any blow of water from the horizon or anything to offer a signal there is something else she should be doing. Them simply being here, just lingering, is enough to cause a stir in her chest that there is something… unfinished.

Every so often she stops and searches up and down the coast as if something is there, waiting, and it is only when flailing and sputtering catches her attention. A small form wallows onto shore. The tides are not as angry as they have been for the better part of the week or more but the longer she looks, the more she realizes it is a wolf further up shore. Her ears drop upon her head and she stumbles forward, a mix of aggression and concern tying her into a stammering of her legs. Uncertain how to act, she remembers the guardians in the ocean and turns to see them still there and searches their presence for answers.

After a beat, she can’t give them the attention she wants to. Their answers do not make sound but she rushes forward anyway to close the distance. She does not make a sound or indicate her presence any more than her approach gives off, and lowers her head to grab the girl by the scrub and drag her further up the sand.