Cerulean Cape pinocchio lay down on the riverbed

Her hail was lost on him; it was only noise but it did serve to catch his attention where his ears could not hear her steps above the roar of the sea and where his nose was occupied elsewhere and without the favor of the wind.

The wolf lifted his head and directed his amber eyes toward her as he chewed and gulped at the strip he had plucked, ears piqued with interest. His tail was still. Not much remained of the seal but he was hungry enough to feel possessive over the tattered hide and bone that did.

Her question was met with a glance over his shoulder and across the violence that roiled out there over the ocean. Skookumchuck spoke once he finished swallowing. Saw a wolf get swept off his feet once. These were no ordinary seas. For every few waves that came predictably, another reared up surged even further. He was dragged out and drowned.

Fear or respect; it was hard to say where the line was between them.