Stavanger Bay Gotta sad life, sad life; go to fuckin' hell

@Francine hope it is ok to PP for conclusion. permission from smokestep to pp him

sandpiper drifted closer, sand clattering down the dunes as she came within auditory range. the girl was too eager, too soft -- sandpiper gave a low woof and her ears pulled back in grim expression. they needed tough hands, coarse old salts -- a novice they could take in due time, but for now they were too fragile to accept some greenhorn.

"she is too inexperienced. come back in a month, if you are still alive." sandpiper called, her tail pricked as she regarded the darker stranger.


smokestep met her gaze and she canted her muzzle to the sea in a silent 'let's go'. the wolf was given no apology -- just a cold look before sandpiper shouldered her brother and the two turned in tandem for the beach leaving francine where she stood. should francine still be around in the months hence, perhaps she would be a welcome addition -- for now she was an unknown quantity, another mouth to feed in perilous times -- and sandpiper would not have it.