Gilded Bay echoes

The wolf had left behind the corridor between the mountains where he'd found the black forest, the spectral hollow, the crossroad rivers, and made his way through the forest until he came upon a plain; from there, he headed north, but the scent of salt was still incredibly pungent, and by the time he reached the bay he realized he'd made a mistake. There was nothing here. It was the edge of the world - but at least he could breathe the familiar saline of the air and think about the north, with its impenetrable ice sheets and its glorious sunrises.

Then, he was hit with another scent. Something stronger than the prevalent salt, something almost as familiar - but perhaps he was only hungry. He observed the rolling sand and the breaking of the surf, and only spied stones. Boulders, crusted over with barnacles, layered in patches by reeds caught upon them. The more he looked at them the less interested he became, but as Tulimaq crept along the beach he noticed another wolf -- and they were stopped by a boulder. A large one. And it was... breathing?

The waves swept out again, and he made his approach. It looked as if the sea was retreating from him, but as he neared the bulbous shape - and the other wolf - it came sweeping in again. The wave broke across the whale but Tulimaq remained oblivious to its state of near-death, and chose to call out to the stranger instead -- the gold-cast wolf who seemed to be more at home upon the wet sand.