Sea Lion Shores i will go to my own sun

the sound of the fox's footfalls, lost to the greedy sands that shift underweight, in the ever present roar of the tide as it crashes upon the shore, and in the sound of tearing scales and crunching fragile fishbones as kharybdis messily tears into the snack. it isn't until the shout — something about dad and you — carries across the salty seabrine and the movement caught out of the corner of the furies' eye alerts him to the fox's presence.

hackles bristle along his spine, kharybdis' paw slaps down on the fish he had all but finished off ( the good parts anyway ), and a low warning growl rumbles in his chest; teeth snapping in the direction of the fox like a cobra's strike to warn him away from the fish.

❝den eímai o patéras sou❞. the draconian tongue of his people passes betwixt his lips, stained with blood and little bits of fishflesh he hasn't bothered to yet clean off. of course he wasn't, he has only just turned old enough to sire cubs and beyond that there wasn't anyway he sired a fox. not father. he grunts in broken common; eyes watching the fox's movements carefully, not trusting him around his food ( regardless that it had required very little work from kharybdis and there was hardly anything left worth being possessive over logically ).