Oystercatcher Tide Pools A man with intent on his face

The constant hunting had him drained. The raven recluses himself from his Family for once, his favored place calling to him once more for rest. The ocean, powerful and restless, waves smashing into rocky boulders and cliffs further down, but lapping aggressively against the sandy border here, he drifted closer to the brine spray until screams of avians caught his aud. They weren’t the usual warning cries. They were upped in their pitch, more fearful. Turning to assess the situation, the Phantom locked his eyes across a much bulkier wolf snacking on one of the flapping things-
until it flapped no more.

Though the crunch wasn’t very loud over the waves passionate crush of waves, every predator knew that sound. A nod to the behemoth before he moved to dip his paws in the rushing salted waters.