The Sentinels no roots

Embry listened politely as they traipsed along, tilting his head every now and then. He thoughtfully picked his way around the underbrush, crowded with fallen oaks and alders, and remained attentive despite his anxious mind, which truly rested upon nothing other than the thought of that magnificent, rolling tide.

He nodded when the wolf confirmed his observations of origins on the strand. It hadn't been difficult to derive, after all, and it made the stranger all the more accountable. For a moment, Embry struggled to find anything more to say. Indeed, it might have been important to exchange names or some sort of title, and yet his chance was broken by the eruption of his associate's stentorian voice. Stormrift... 

Embry was not given long to dwell on the name, for his eyes soon betrayed him and lifted at the first sight of fawn earth. And there it was: home. His breath caught in his throat, in which a century or more seemed to pass. He had all but dreamed of this day, when he would run along the shore again. He was all but fit to burst into a galloping run when - having briefly forgotten the presence of what could only be the land's owner - he cast a sideways glance at his guide, and within his eyes there was a implicit gleam that spoke a world of inexorable gratitude. Whether or not this dark fellow was aware, this was a metamorphosis in itself; what stood before him was not the Embry of before, but himself as he was in the days of his earlier youth.

"Well," he grunted, rendered half-speechless by the sight. "It's..." 
Ah, but there is something else one should know about Embry. He never left a sentence without a proper beginning and end.

Upon this day, however, such a feat was much too negligible. And so, when he uttered the word "stunning" it was lost in the great speed of his departure, for he had waited far too long, and his verve had finally overpowered him. His paws kicked up sand like steam beneath him, swirling as though from the great fire that was Embry. The water grew closer and closer until all he could do was leap, as a fox in snow, into those cold, briny depths. Long-lost friend, he smiled. I hope you have not forgotten me.