Coconut Grove this town is wasted and alone.

The voice of a stranger came out of no where, causing Penn to jump visibly. He spun around to face the speaker, his face contorted into an annoyed grimace that froze before it turned to outright aggression. He listened as the youngster spoke, but his mind was reeling back to the kids he'd abandoned. This wolf was young. Young enough? Could he be looking at his own son?

He swallowed the feelings that tried to rise up in him. He didn't know. He would never know. He needed to stop wondering if every young wolf he met was one of his, because what did it matter? He had decided before they were ever born that he wasn't going to be their father. There was no going back. So he shoved the thought from his mind as best as he could and let his gaze shift from the yearling to the crab and back again.

Penn quirked a brow. "Your shell?" he asked slowly, "What, do you wear it as a hat?"