Sequoia Coast outside, cold and ghosting out with jetlag

a lone and forlorn howl rose above the whipping winds, carrying across the sound before trailing off into a melancholy low. following the cry came the stilled form of the coywolf, her outline silhouetted against the strand. it appeared the small predator was alone, save for the strolling and nearly casual amble of her gait that suggested she was either comfortably home, or traveling amongst company.

the coywolf knew this beach well, and she combed through its cold shores rejoicing to have reunited with its familiarity. heedless to the bracing temperatures of the water she slid into the thrashing blue of the sea, sending gulls chattering overhead as they departed.