The Sentinels strapped down to something that you don't understand

She finds her way back to the coast.  She doesn't have some half-assed excuse to be away from home this time, she just is.  This morning is chillier than the ones before it, excaberated by the cool air that rolls in from the sea.  

She thinks first of the dark boy who she'd found in some other bay, and then as she moves into the burned wood she thinks of Slavik.  She wonders where he and Speedy are now, and if they're faring well.  Part of her envies them for their freedom.  Part of her does not, for winter is coming and the colder months will not be so kind.

She takes in a breath and pulls her gaze to the crashing waves.  There is a distinct lack of wolf smell, which strikes her as peculiar.  She knows she is close to Ironsea's claim and she was half-expecting to run into them.

Perhaps she will scout it out later.  For now she is content to rest, her paws in the sand and her back to the Plateau.