Sequoia Coast beach murder bitch

Their search for bones leads them off of the island, predictably. It would hardly be proper to rob the bones of their fellows from their graves, and the bones of any simple creature will not do. These must be wolf bones. In their determination, Mhairi tunes out all else, a slinking wraith fashioned of sea mist haunting the coastline. There is an effortless confidence to their wanderings, an easy gait; a monarch surveying their domain. The ocean has always belonged to me.