Sea Lion Shores Stolen Life

After her disastrous berry eating contest, Marlow had followed the pull that tugged her northward. She could swear she smelled salt on the breeze, and that sent both a feeling of excitement and a feeling of dread through the young wolf's chest. For one, she loved the sea. It was freedom and waves and gulls screeching and life. But the issue here was the baggage that came with her love. She just as well hated it, for where she used to live and the deplorable conditions she and the other women were kept in. Used, abused, beaten down. Subservient. It had been disgusting.

            But it wasn't the sea's fault. The sea had done nothing wrong, and so she sought it out, craving the feeling of floating weightlessly in the waves once again. 

           She came upon it slowly, and then all at once, sprinting forward when her ears picked up the crashing waves on the shore. Long legs carried her quickly over grass that melted into sand and then stopped on a dime when she spotted the sea lions. There hadn't been many where she had come from, but they were a rare delicacy, and here? There were plenty. Of course, she'd never been allowed to hunt them. That was a man's job. 

           Marley was just about to run forward when she spotted the other wolf surveying the group. Markings eerily similar to her own, but in red instead of white. The leggy wolf crept forward, trying to make sure she was in the other girl's line of sight so she didn't startle her. 

           "Want to hunt one?" she questioned, golden eyes glinting as she looked over at the girl.