The Sentinels no roots

There was a transformation on the other man’s face as they passed into the bay and he was left to behold the territory. It was as though he had been traveling through the desert for years on end in search of water and after all that time, he had finally stumbled upon the one thing he desired most. Ford was not unfamiliar with this sight. It did not perturb him that the stranger felt so overwhelmed that he would forget his words in the glee that flooded his system. It was a good sign – to know the ocean with such fondness. It showed that he would be capable of true devotion, if there ever came a question of it.
 
The titan watched as the other fellow sprung through the sands and into the arms of the water. He followed the stranger’s movements with a keen eye, drinking in all that he was learning through simple action and reaction. The wolf did appear as though he was perfectly at home in the embrace of the ocean. It seemed as though it mattered very little that their bay was gripped by winter and the waters were cold against the flesh. It only mattered that he was there, and that was something to be marveled at.
 
With a prowling figure, Ford moved across the earth and found a place where he would be comfortable. There, the titan lowered himself into a seated position in the sand and allowed his gaze to travel along the shore – along his claim – with a ghostly smile that turned the edge of his lips upward. It wasn’t necessary to pull the wolf from his moment of being reunited. They would have time to continue their conversation when he had had his fill of the saline breeze and the lapping of the swell against his frame. Until then, he was free to do what he wished.