Shimmering Sands I have a very small mouth and only grabbed some of you

"I don't know." Raptor shrugged as he trotted along. "I didn't bury them up to their necks in sand. They move around ye know. I'm sure they're here somewhere."

Tracking was not his strong suit. Perhaps it could have been if he found the task more exciting and was not so prone to laziness. He had a good nose for seeking out the smallest scraps of food if he could apply it elsewhere. But even then, tracking was not commonly needed by the sea, where each tide devoured any tracks and scents that were there, and where the best method for finding someone generally was to seek a crow's nest and scan the distances sprawled at one's paws.

Sandpiper's bright coat was near impossible to miss on the dreary winter shores. "Yer in luck," Raptor said, casting the salt and pepper lass a wink over his shoulder before he quickened his pace to the tide pools, hailing Sandpiper with a loud and shrill whistle (in his old crew he had been known as the whistler for more than one reason) without breaking stride.

"Look who I found for ye!"

He stood before his crewmate with a wagging tail and a toothy grin.