Cerulean Cape why do I come back for more?

Nynka had never really been much of an oceangoer herself. She wove in and out among the sandy-rooted trees with her little black nose atwitch, and her head craned up and catching occasional glimpses of the lapping waves. It was a strange place, smelling mostly of salt and green water, and whilst others may have thought the sunny beach a lovely vacation spot, the main thing that Nynka took note of was that most any sort of worthwhile prey animal seemed like it disagreed. She did spy a tiny crustacean, barely any larger than her own dainty browning paw, and chased after it for just a moment before it scuttled back under the sand with only a final clack of its claws to rebuke her. Nynka dug her claws into its little sandy hidey-hole for the space of a few breaths, more out of curiosity than hunger. The walls of its burrow collapsed with speedy ease, however, and the effort of feeding that curiosity quickly grew to be more than it was worth. Nynka left it as a bad job and bounded onward.

A puff of a breeze blew more than just a bit of loose sand at her. Nynka stopped in the shade of a palm and gave her coat a quick shimmy followed by a sneeze; her pelt might not be pure white anymore, but that certainly didn't mean she wanted big scoops of itchy sand caught up in it. She was not finding herself particularly impressed by any of this landscape and did not in the least intend to carry any of it home with her. She had resolved to travel at least to the end of this last stand of trees, however, just to make sure she wasn't missing out on anything worth exploring before she turned for home. But in addition to the monotonous salty ocean air, that breeze had brought her inquiring nose a strong waft of wolf. Nynka tweaked her nose in disgruntlement but slunk forth anyway, to see what might have brought the canine to this rather boring place. With not a lot else to do perhaps this wolf girl might provide some entertainment —

With speed and stealth Nynka eeled forward and poked her head out from behind the thick trunk of the last palm in line. She blinked, and twitched her ears, and watched in puzzlement as the wolf moved about the beach in a most curious manner. It didn't seem to be going much of anyplace, only flailing ineffectually about in the most bizarre and mostly-sideways manner... what the hell? Was it injured, or perhaps severely ill?! A fever on the brain seemed to Nynka to be the likeliest explanation, at least until the wolf suddenly shook off her seeming brain ailment and went cantering gracefully along in a suddenly perfectly straight span of sandy pawprints. Curiouser and curiouser! Nynka inched forward a few inquiring steps, intent on getting a better look at what the wolf was suddenly chasing, on the off-chance it might be something worth stealing from the disordered canine. If the wolf was really that troubled in the head then it ought to be a relatively simple matter to swipe the creature out from under it.

But the creature being chased looked only to be another crab, a few times larger than the first Nynka had seen, true, but still of somewhat dubious edibility in her mind. Yet if Nynka was unsure weasels could ingest such a creature, she was almost dead certain wolves could not—apparently more evidence, if any were needed, of this particular wolf having her head screwed on wrong. But all thoughts of whether or not to steal a kill were swept from Nynka's mind by the sudden and quite dramatic screech of surprise that escaped from the wolf. Nynka jerked back in startlement herself, but then couldn't contain her own, nearly-as-loud laughter as the yelping wolf went rearing up with the crab attached below the whiskers. Nynka took back every mean thing that had ever crossed her mind about the beach: this was by far the most entertaining thing she had seen all day, and well worth the trip. Kehehe keheheeee! You're going to have to try harder'n that if you want your schnozz to match yer ear there, wolf! Or did that big mean crab's brother already take a chunk o' ya earlier? Keheheheee! With that notion the Dread Wolf-Hunting Crab had just become her new favorite species, even if its staying power looked to be pretty crap. Hardly a flick of the wolf's head and already the little creature had gone flying—gonna have to do better than that buddy, if you want to hunt yourself some wolves.