Ankyra Sound meanwhile, buster was waiting in the hallway.

The days since his arrival in the Saltwinter pack had seemed to drag on. Not due to any unhappiness at having joined their ranks, but for the simple fact that everything felt so strange. Whittier had only ever known the cozy world of a pack run by his parents and filled with his family. Even his time as a lone wolf, away from them had been blessedly without incident, and thus fairly comfortable. He'd managed food when he'd needed it, found company when he'd grown too lonesome, and easily avoided danger by simple lucky circumstance when it came too close to favoring him as a target.

But everything was changed now. The yearling's arrival at Saltwinter had been precessed by a plague of locusts - something that had caused him to consider suicide for the very first time in his young life (bugs were not his thing). And now he lived in a strange world that had been ravaged by the beasts of his nightmares, lead by a woman that seemed to be wolf, but also felt so very reminiscent of one of those beasts. Not locust-y so much, but definitely insect-like. His brother was here at least, but not even Jorunn - SHIT gat dammit, Kjalarr (he was never going to get that one right..) - seemed to be the same wolf he'd grown up with. It was to be expected for they'd known each other only as silly little boys, but still. He'd grown up with the beta, in this lands, in a world of green and joy. But none a speck of what should have been familiar actually was.

But there was one thing at least that provided a constant, somewhat odd and unexpected, comfort to him. And that was the ocean.

Whit had never seen it from so close before. He remembered a time on Nova Peak when he'd stumbled upon a vantage point that gave him a far off glimpse, but never before had he stood as he did now - with his toes buried in sand while the tide grazed lazily across them. It was soothing to turn away from the dreary, barren world behind him to look out at the huge body of water and see exactly what he'd always expected. The sea had been immune to the rape of the locusts upon the earth. That in itself was a comfort, but also it reminded him of that moment of his childhood. And of his time spent alone, and the adventure and wonder he'd felt.

Whitter sighed, knowing he should likely being doing something more useful with himself than staring at water. But he didn't move, in spite of that feeling. He needed a moment, for after all - he would likely starve to death any day now, so why not spend his last looking at the one thing that made him feel even the slightest bit content?