Iktome Plains My friends all drive Porsches I must make amends

Skirting the weald towards the plains, Taggak had been surprised to notice the trail of Dutch crisscrossing the land between the woods and the plateau along with others that smelled similar. Moonsong wolves? It was difficult to distinguish the storyteller from the many other paths, but the discovery was intriguing and put a smile on his face as the familiar salt-tinged breeze ruffled his fur.

It was then that he noticed a figure in the distance. At first glance, he thought it was Marina and bounded closer with a joyously wagging tail. Until he realised this stranger was bigger, broader, and smelled nothing like Moontide. Nevertheless, his greeting was chipper. "You're lucky it's not salt water," he grinned, tasting the liquid with his tongue once they were side by side as if to make sure.