Sequoia Coast ﹙ꕥ﹚Called to the Devil and the Devil did come

Setting Details: Dusk, clear skies with healthy breezes. Northern edge of the coastline.

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The sand shifted beneath her steps, growing more firm as the she-wolf moved closer to the body of water to her right. Greedily, the briny surf would chase along Sequoia Coast's banks, rushing across the woman's pale paws before the pendulum would swing and the counter-motion would drag the tow back into itself. Sorcha found the motions hypnotic in a way, the looping soundtrack of sea birds overhead puncturing the sway of the tide.

She felt a sense of peace that had not always accompanied her on her voyage away from her natal pack's lands. Her venture had found her cold some nights and hungry others - sometimes both all at once - but in the gathering dusk and its bright display of vibrant colors, she enjoyed the final vestiges of warmth offered by the sun as it drifted lower in the sky. Its fiery shape bled into the darkening waters, cutting slices of molten light across the crest of each wave. Sorcha pressed into the water's berth as it foamed around her ankles then knees, sinking further until her shoulders were battered by it and she could feel the resistance against each slow step. The waterlogged sands squished between her toes, swirling and disturbing the tiny lifeforms who called the shallow waters home.

Sorcha admired the play of light and colors stretched all around her, feeling strangely grounded even as she shoved off from the soft sands and angled into the waves. The water was a respite from the summer heat, but she knew dangers lurked in its depths - she would not venture too far. Her swimming ability was not poor, but she was far from experienced in the ways of the sea. Lakes and smaller, more contained bodies of water were her comfort zone, but... she craved novelties.