Sea Lion Shores oh, the world is dark

“Hey!”

Instantaneously, Szymon whipped around with yellow fangs bared, his mouth bloodied and bruised. A low, churning growl rose in his throat as he stepped carefully around Doe and placed himself between his mate and the stranger. Salt-riddled hackles flared to life across his withers and down his spine, from the base of his narrow skull to the tip of his scabbed, patchy tail. “M-M-Mine,” he snarled at her plainly, taking a threatening step forward and snorting through his nostrils like an enraged bull as his jaws snapped with unnatural vehemence. His spine rippled like an agitated cat’s, and his ears pressed forward upon his skull, but his body language contradicted itself — he seemed almost fearful underneath the flash of bravado, with his darting golden eyes and restlessly shifting paws. “Run, D-D-Doe, run.”