Stavanger Bay The sea runners

Memphis’ inquiry had ignited a fire which swallowed his mind. His reply to the man was truthful, but he felt the subject required further contemplation. Tahoe was at odds with realization that he had become nothing more than the pathetic loners he used to run off his territory. He was merely a piece of driftwood amidst the ravenous ocean which churned before his eyes. This realization ceased to bother him, but led to a chain of thoughts he had always tiptoed around. McBride sought to never make solid plans for the future—marching around with a fixated agenda made life less enjoyable to him—but in this instance, he needed some guidance. Abruptly, Tahoe extinguished the thoughts, allowing Memphis to grasp his full attention. Memphis offered well wishes to him, divulging his plans to embark on some journey. He then turned, meandering off toward the sea. It was quite an exit, even though a little premature.

Good luck. He woofed after him. His beady pupils followed Memphis' departing form as he continued to bask upon the boulder. Tahoe's wish for a day at the beach would be granted.