Sequoia Coast outside, cold and ghosting out with jetlag

my BABIES

caiaphas cut through the rippling water, her long snout fording the roiling water in small rifts of seafoam. as she performed a serpentine in the water in the manner of a seal, she spotted kierkegaard drifting along the shore behind her. the ashen brute was perhaps the only wolf to ever tolerate her presence so gracefully -- caiaphas was aware she owed him quite a lot. her life, even.

she advanced from the sea towards him, pulling a wake of seeping water behind her that fell heavily from her coarse fur and spattered along the sand. as she reunited with him she became aware of a scent -- it caused her fur to stand on end and commanded her to stop, stock-still in shock.

the only thing to move on her body were her long mule-like ears, which pulled wildly in various directions -- she thrust her muzzle into the wind and wide-eyed, took several staggering steps forward to try to pull from the wind the direction of his scent. lycaon - it was unmistakable -- and there, distant on the shore, was a lone figure that blotted the cheerless grey of the strand. caiaphas threw her head above her and howled again, her heart fluttering in her chest as she awaited the distant figure's reaction.