Coconut Grove i'd promise you anything for another shot at life.

it had been a long time since he'd been among the coconut grove.

whatever destruction wrought by the great storm had healed (or was washed away by subsequent tides). the trees were tall and steady, their boughs—whatever they looked like in early spring—casting fanned shadows over the snow-dusted sand.

aditya weaved slowly, idly, through the place, heart catching here and there at various points of familiarity.

he was not, however, prepared for the sight of a wolf clad in greyscale, his eyes glinting dark chocolate in the light. the old man stopped, suddenly arrested. the young man resembled nothing so much as his erstwhile in-laws, the morningsides, and he still wasn't convinced that wasn't the case as he began to move again after a few moments of silent contemplation.

it's nicer here when the weather is warm, he said obviously, smiling a little in greeting. he was no threat—bony, more-than-slightly sway-backed and peppered with silver—but he still carried himself, somewhat, as master of this place.