Blackbeak Bluff iqsuk

It seemed her wandering feet would never be stilled; Foxglove wandered the length of the coast in a pleasant haze of hummed songs and solitary sunsets. Every night she bedded among the flowers, and each morning she danced over the dew-flecked seaside grasses.

It was lonely. But it was hers.

By the cliffside she found unexpected company in the form of a distant silhouette. A pale wolf; even from afar he cut an imposing figure. Foxglove halted where she stood, ears pulling forward, and chuffed a soft greeting. Her tail swayed slowly behind her, uncertain.