Coconut Grove Midnight driving til my eyes give up

the man slipped through the dying trees down to the beach, where the plush form of lucas stood, examining something at the edge of the grove. govinda drew up beside him with a gentle chuff, reaching out his muzzle to sniff delicately at the bones. his eyes followed the arcs, one by one, marveling at the size of them.

perhaps some wolves more inclined to malice would see it as a cage, a place to keep enemies. govinda saw nothing but potential fun in it.

good find, khush, he murmured, the nickname coming to his lips as easily as if he'd been calling lucas so all his life. he gave him a broad smile, the warmth reaching his gaze. where do you think it came from? govinda had some ideas, but he wanted to hear the boy's take on the skeleton.