Sequoia Coast outside, cold and ghosting out with jetlag

with exchanges met, caiaphas turned from lycaon and looked upon kierkegaard, who had regarded lycaon in the cool manner she had come to expect him to. her gaze flickered to the rough sea at mention of her folly -- briefly a sheepish smile appeared, but it withered as soon as it had become present on her sharp muzzle.

"we have much to do to reclaim the sound," she stated, brushing her muzzle fondly along lycaon's as she began to walk forward. the sound as of present was mostly desolate -- same as it had always been. in time, it would see a new leaf - and new beginnings.