Coconut Grove sometimes they fall down for no reason at all

Rare was he to visit the sea, staring from afar but yet to truly step into its embrace since their return to the coast. He questioned it still, wondered when it might be angered again—and if that anger would be enough to wipe them all out this time, or if they would stand tall against the threats. Whatever the future may hold in store, he could not cower from the waves any longer; it was with hardly a whisper to the others that he left Rusalka’s claim, course set for the sea. To feel the water through his fur, the salt against his skin—

Drawing nearer yet to the ocean, the crack of lightning and boom of thunder from the skies made him consider turning back. If ever there was a time to avoid the sea, it was during a storm. But before he could make that decision himself, it was made for him by a familiar face.

In the distance, he saw a ghost. He froze up, stiff-legged and uncertain, before bounding towards her with a loud bark—but the ghost was not the one he initially believed them to be. The closer he got, the more differences were noted, and the scent was all wrong; this wolf was male, yet vaguely familiar still. Too late to turn back now, surely to have already been noticed, he continued until he was within speaking range before coming to a dead stop. And whilst verbally silent, the questioning look in his eyes spoke a thousand words.