Stavanger Bay the live oak tree and the big bay moon

He sniffed along the shore, searching for any trace of Yolo. He hadn’t seen his brother in a few days now. It wasn’t unusual for the two of them to part ways for a little while, though Yeet expected his brother back by now.

His head raised at the sound of a nearby howl. Maybe now was a bad time to heckle a wolf, with Yolo in the wind. But his search had turned up nothing and he was thirsty for a distraction, particularly a reckless one.

“Hey!” he shouted, scrambling toward the sound. “HEY, YOU! WITH THE FACE!” He was coming up fast on the (large) wolf’s backside, though Yeet felt it was safe to assume he did have a face.