Coconut Grove just you and me, sitting by the orange trees

All of this water and shifting earth was terrifying. Grimmia Moss had never seen the ocean before, having lived nearly the entirety of her first year within the lush depths of forested wilderness. She knew of lakes, but the bodies of water she knew could be skirted in a matter of days, and they tasted fresh. But this? It was as if she had found the world's edge. The water smelled wrong, too, and when she braved a drink it only made her thirsty.

She moved along the shore as if she were trying to prove to the world's edge that she was no danger to it, tail between her legs. Grimmia could have easily turned inland and ran far from it. But as much as it was terrifying, it was also fascinating. She did begin to run when familiar silhouettes were visible in the distance, strange trees with foliage that reminded her of ferns. At least it was akin to a forest.

The yearling ignored the nervous churning in her gut for as long as she could, doing her best to burn away the anxiety with the intensity of her run, but in reality she was moving at a clumsy trot. It was difficult to keep her footing, and with meters to go before she would reach the safety of the treeline, Grimmia had no choice but to squat. Her rear legs tapped from side to side and she braced herself with her forelegs until after a few moments, relief came.

Kicking sand over the scat to bury the scent, the she wolf closed the remaining meters to the strange grove, the urge to run now past. She moved at a relaxed but efficient pace, only stumbling a little now as the sands moved beneath her paws when she dared glances at the water to ensure it was no closer to swallowing her up.