Sequoia Coast an only child of the universe

The wolf stood astride a narrow portion of white sand. It was unclear if the sand had frozen together because of the season or if the tide had merely swept out further than he thought possible, but he could range beyond the normal limit, like the sea had fled from the touch of all things solid. In picking his way across the exposed sand bar the wolf thought, surely, that he would find something to fill the void of his empty gut.

He slunk along with his head downcast, but even in these speculative moments he was a gargantuan thing; the dark sable of his winter coat shrouding a solidly built (if a little thin) skeleton. When nothing could be found the masked miscreant turned towards the rock-hewn coast and headed for the interior. He slowed his pace when a silhouette caught his attention (the movement spurred him to lift his head), and there he beheld a silver-clad stranger on the prowl.

Curious, he chose to pursue, and was not subtle about it.