Stavanger Bay I'm gonna lay my favorite shirt out neat

She needed advice. Vegas' smirk faltered a bit as she stepped closer. He wished to help the pretty young woman, but there was an inkling discomfort growing in him. Um... he spoke thoughtfully, chewing the corner of his lip. He had done this before, but never with a spectator, and never with one he wanted to perhaps impress a little bit.

here.  With this, he loped down the beach a ways, blue eyes glancing to and fro. At last he found what he was looking for - a sea rock, one large enough to grasp in his jaws, but small enough to carry. Vegas picked it up, pivoted, and carried it back to the ebony-furred she-wolf. 

hang on... he prepared her, and  waited for the pincer-weilding crab to stop scuttling back and forth before the pair of predators, still waving its claws. At just the right moment, the snowy wolf dropped the rock upon the crab with a thud and a dull crack, pinning the now injured sea-bug in place.

now just put your front paws on it, and push as hard as you can. its shell will crack, and it will die. he took a step back in case she needed help.