Horizon Ridge what's left of death is more than fear

So often was he covered in filth, Atreyu was scarcely aware of it. He was used to his own scent and many other wolves he met either didn't notice or weren't keen to point out the state of his pelt, so he merrily carried on without bathing or cleaning himself. When the stranger withdrew, he quirked an ear in confusion. Perhaps he had frightened her? At her query, his frown deepened and he quickly glanced at the ocean, before turning back to her vivid gaze. "Wh—no..." he stuttered, a little dumbfounded. "I think I know where it is." Thank you very much.