Stavanger Bay some are just black holes.

"I would like some sunshine, pleeeaaase!" Penn shouted at the clouds as he trotted across a stretch of greyish sand. Much as he enjoyed the sound of the waves and the smell of sea salt, he was getting a bit sick of the chill rolling in on the breeze and the feeling of his cold, damp fur. A much more intelligent wolf would have decided an appropriate solution to this predicament would be to head inland away from the wet and the wind. Penn felt he was much more suited to his solution, which was to yell at the sky.

The Blackthorn jumped from rock to rock, enjoying if nothing else how it felt to get some use out of his muscles. He'd lounged about in the grove for far too long. While it had been tempting to lie there until summer came when he could get fat on coconuts and crabs, he realized the getting fat part was not going to happen soon enough. Not to mention, that wasn't exactly a great life plan. And he was hungry, which is actually the main point of this paragraph.

Funnily enough, it was thoughts about how very hungry he was that caused him to completely miss at first the fact that he was actually getting quite close to happening upon a meal. Had he not slipped and his attention drawn out of his own head because of it, he would never have noticed the scent of decaying meat that had him instantly salivating. He clambered swiftly up onto four sturdy legs and lifted his nose to to wind, sniffing deep this way and that until he pinpointed a direction and began to move.

It took only another ten minutes or so of hunting before he came across it, almost invisible in its camouflage amongst the rocks. A dead seal, its shiny black skin nearly identical to the rocks its body had been broken across. Penn grinned broadly and tucked into the cold blubber, pleased that if he couldn't have sunshine, he could at least have a nice lunch.