Sequoia Coast esperanza

She peacefully minds her own business -- there's no use in listening to the bickering she felt drifting on the ocean breeze. Russet fur is dusted with grains of sand kicked up in the wind, smell of salt clinging to her pelt. Her tail swishes behind her, the cool waves lapping at her toes. It is not until one of the wolves directs a question at her that she turns her head towards them, head cocked to question the words.

"If you mean the ocean, then yes," she says coolly. Once the two had drawn close, she had done her best to replace their argument with the sound of the roaring ocean, waves crashing against the rocks. It had been peaceful until they had arrived, quick to destroy her few moments of peace. She had been so distracted by the ocean that she barely knew the words that they had spoken, wondering why they even thought to stop and seemingly imply that she had been eavesdropping rather than pass her by.