Sea Lion Shores you're a drifter, shape shifter

@Caiaphas B) This may be full of typos or inconsistencies, I thought it would be a fun thing to write it backwards for some reason.

Aesop walked with the sea on his left, along the rocky line between the shore and the unknown land beyond. He had quickly discovered that walking great distances on the sand was difficult and tiring, that the ground would shift beneath his paws and make things a whole lot more difficult than he was willing to put up with. So he stuck to terrain he was more accustomed to, the short, brown blades of grass that struggled up through the sand and rocks. It was the best of both worlds, really, because the ground was more solid, but he could still feel the soft sand beneath his paws.

He had left the edge of the forest before the sun began to peek over the horizon. The world was grey and quiet save the cries of gulls and the crashing of the waves. The smell of salt was strong in the air, and Aesop felt young. Invigorated. He began to walk north along the shore, pleased to pay witness to all the wonders that unfolded with the miles. He was most interested in the sea lions, though he didn’t have a name for them. Interested, but they were also fucking weird, so he kept his distance until he could ask someone else about them. There were many things he encountered that he didn’t have names for.

It was well into the afternoon when he decided not to head any further, instead deciding to work his way towards the ocean, since the day was warm and it wouldn't be as cold. He thinks? Wolves don't know much about thermodynamics.