Gilded Bay ebbed and flowed

The warmth was something he did not need, and so it was not appreciated. There was a portion of him that believed the ocean provided him an ideal amount of heat that he could not find elsewhere. There was nothing he could do to prove such a theory, but he carried it with him as he trailed the edges of the lapping water. The sharp glint of his gaze latched onto the distant ocean expanse. The length of his inky limbs carried him further along the coast than he had wished to travel, until he had found himself in the heart of the other bay.

Ford was not alone there.

The inkhound latched his mismatched gaze on the rugged brown shape of a stranger. For some time, he continued to stand ankle-deep in the tugging water. He observed as the other wolf lost himself in the swell. There was not much to read there, and so he closed some of the distance between them with a few lengthy strides. When he had drawn close enough that the other might be able to hear him, Ford released a chuff of warning to show that he was there.