Sea Lion Shores the sun is gone, but i have a light

rannveig let his breath unfurl; in the cold, a thin plume rose from his parted jaws, smokefrail and soon gone. if he just sat here a while, he could feel something - something important and meaningful and purposeful as the slow growl of the ocean, or the impossibly remote star-song above.

a tranquility rested over him, one he had not felt since they left warsaw. yet it was fractured, an incomplete yet bizarrely beautiful piece of a puzzle that promised a glorious picture. he felt close, but it was not quite.

he opened his eyes. dark sky and dark sea and dark sands filled his vision.

he breathed deep. cold air, cold salt, cold wind.

and then he looked -- his gaze catching the trailing flame of a wolf whose pelt defied the grim monotone of nightfall. rannveig felt his pulse quicken; he had thought he was alone, and wondered if she had seen him sitting there, thinking him stupid.

well, he believed the damage was done -- with a resigned sort of smile the male shifted up from the sand and turned to face her, a slow wag moving his tail.
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