Ankyra Sound i took it to the right man

He hated winter.
Cold was the bane of the slim boy’s life-- and now he was cold and soaked, dripping salty sea water into the already-saturated sand as he walked. One misstep had sent him tumbling from the slippery rocks he was climbing, and thankfully he was not too far up, but he spared no thought for that small mercy now. He was busy with his irritation and indignance at what had transpired, shaking out his coat and cursing under his breath.
The day was unforgiving. A storm raged overhead, battering the already-dreary area with harsh winds and pelting rain. The boy ducked his head, ears flattened against the onslaught.
Alarian didn't even see the other wolf until he was almost upon her. The first thing he saw was twin yellow flames-- no, those were her eyes. He tilted his head, taking a step back.
Well, you're somethin’ else. The boy's tone was oddly fond, his voice soft and feminine. He took notice of the crab, and quickly added: I’m not after anythin’ of yours. Looks like it’d be less trouble to catch my own crab anyway. He finished the sentence with a lopsided grin, drawing one paw over his face to wipe away the rain that had soaked the fur around his eyes.