Sea Lion Shores it's not a real party until someone's smallclothes are pinned to a chantry board

The barking of sea lions was booming; Smokestep had climbed up over a small hill that overlooked the shore and he peered at the creatures with a gleeful light in his mismatched gaze. From his high perch, the young marauder caught sight of a stray wolf who had meandered near to the barking beasts. With some amusement, he followed her figure as she bristled and moved around the sea creatures. The girl seemed as though she had a good enough mind about her to not challenge the sea lion on her own, and she pointed herself in a fixed direction before she glanced about her, searching.
 
Curiosity was enough to drive the long-legged yearling down from his hill and into the sands. He trekked forward on stretching legs and when he had drawn himself close enough that he could offer some sort of greeting, the young pirate released a gruff sort of bark to announce his presence. “Ahoy there, lass,” he called to her with a swift wave of his tail.