Totoka River Keep running for the sink,

Days had passed, and Sam had stuck to the coast despite being a son of the forest. There was something charming about the undrinkable water and the useless substrate called sand, where nothing grew and upon which skittered at least one emotionally unsupportive crab.

Sam's moping had progressed to aimless wandering in search of food. Small game had eluded him all day, and it was only out of sheer desperation that he had stuck his paws in Totoka River and discovered a hidden talent for fishing.

He was crunching his  way through a scaly snack when a howl sounded nearby - a summoning sound, in a voice that seemed familiar. Sam's copper-backed ears twitched. Ghost? It hurt his heart to think that she might still be searching for her friends. She would be starving by now. Ravenous, even.

Shit.

Sam cleared his throat, and sent a response down the river.