Oystercatcher Tide Pools small fish circling

The young pirate had ventured out beyond the bay on that day in search of unfamiliar faces, and places that he had not yet explored on the coast of the wilds. The striking figure had made his way through the dead wood of the sentinels and onto the plateau. He had trotted well and his lengthy strides had carried him down to the beach once more, in the vicinity of the tide pools. Smokestep had known tide pools to be tricky things, but had found plenty of enjoyment in searching for creatures who had been captured in the ringlets in the sand. Oftentimes, they could escape his grasp, but the yearling had also found a great deal of success in filling his caches with the life found in tide pools.
 
As he neared the location, his mismatched eyes caught sight of a dark figure. The scent that was carried to him deemed her as a newcomer – a stranger in a strange land – and he perked some at the thought of it. With his head held aloft and his tail swinging behind him, the cocksure pirate trotted toward her before chuffing lightly to announce his presence. “Ye lookin’ fer fishin’ lessons, miss?”