I'm not the Sacrifice!

Leucothoë trailed a scent angrily, her shoulders rolling in a predatory fashion while her tail lashed behind her. Whatever she smelled, candid for certain but strangely different than wolf, would be brought to an end in a quick fashion. Upon her arrival to the sound, her eyes scour the land around her...

And she could not find it. Seaweed came to the shore in all shapes and sizes, carrying sometimes driftwood and carcasses alike. Noting one strange shape, Leucothoë fancied she had found herself a meal. She approached the shape slowly, unsure if it could prove to be a threat... and the thing stood.

Leucothoë started, jumping back initially from the thing she had imagined dead. But realizing it was not dead, she took in the thing with all of her eyes. The Sea had spit it out, and she knew why; the thing had not been absolved of its sin, pure though it looked.

And then, another epiphany: the Sea had brought her its sacrifice, and her tail waved victoriously. She took a step toward the thing, behaving the shepherd. Come, she speaks in her tongue and gestures to her side invitingly.