Shimmering Sands "it's calm before the storm, winslow."

The druid frowned at Lionel’s initial remark.
 
“Dunno… it’s been a while huh? How long’s it take for a forest to grow back?” he grumbled with a shrug and a glance out toward the sea. What more would they do? Trot about along the outskirts of the nearby packs and kill on their borders? He feared he would grow bored with the games involved in being a lone wolf. Knaven did not know that he could settle for anything less than causing some mischief with the aid of a few locals. The rogue knew well enough that he wouldn’t do well under the rule of a stranger, so joining a founded pack was out of the question.
 
“Let’s start that direction and see what we’re lookin’ at,” he said with a nod toward the coastline. The earthy beast did not worry that they would miss their family’s forest, but he wondered how much ground they would need to cover before they were close. They’d already neared the edges of one pack, surely it wasn’t the only one along the edge of the sea.