Ankyra Sound hold our skin over the light to hold the heat

A few days among the pack of the Vale, Noctaryn had grown restless, craving space once more. Their kindness and warm welcome had not gone unappreciated—he would always be grateful for their generosity. His body was healed, his muscles no longer ached, and each step came without pain. That meant one thing: he could travel again. And travel he would.

He wandered through the woods, across the plains, and over the mountains, seeking solitude. Today, his path led him to the ocean. There was no destination, no true purpose to his steps—only the desire to understand this new world and all it held. He had known only humans, chains, cold hard ground, pebble-like food and water poured into noisy metal bowls. Freedom had never been a concept before. Now that he had it, he wasn’t sure what to do with it.

But as the scent of earth and trees faded, replaced by brine and salt, and the wind wove gently through his fur, he wondered—was this what freedom felt like?

The question lingered in his mind, unanswered, until movement pulled him from his thoughts. A fish—on land? It flailed weakly, its energy nearly spent. How had it ended up so far from the water? The answer revealed itself soon enough. Just beyond the struggling creature, subtle movement caught his eye—a wolf, soaked and glistening with seawater, meticulously grooming herself dry.

His steps halted, curiosity sparking. He lifted his nose, inhaling the sharp brine of the sea, laced with something… floral? The scent was unfamiliar, yet pleasant, and he regretted his lack of knowledge about such things. Perhaps, in time, he would learn its name.

Expression unreadable, he stood still, watching. But his silver eyes held a quiet intrigue as they studied her—small, delicate, her coat a blend of greys and whites. How could something so small challenge the vast ocean? Or was she not battling it at all? Was she born of it, shaped by its tides?

The thought amused him, and a quiet chuckle escaped his lips.