The Sentinels [M] little blue frog

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The beach sucked. Sand everywhere, birds screaming, not to mention the sour scent of their poop infesting every inch of the known world; nope, the beach was not ideal for Dingo. He decided to detour south, and soon was enveloped by a forest. He anticipated that it'd be warmer here among the trees, if only because the frigid wind coming off the ocean wouldn't be present — but no. He was a really bad judge of like, literally everything. It was cold in the shadows of the forest, hardly any different from the beach. The winds were still quite high; they thrummed against the spires of the old trees, worried the canopy, and seemed to have become invested with stripping the last of the trees of their leaves. The howling winds would only get worse from here and Dingo, cold and miserable and lonely Dingo, needed a game plan. He knew he couldn't survive for long like this.