Sea Lion Shores canopic

she trotted along the shoreline, a freshly caught fish clutched in her jaws. they were more difficult to find near the shore this time of year, but easier to catch; like the cold waves, they grew sluggish in winter. she might've feasted on the spot except for the exposure, and these lands were not her own. the sea was familiar. this coast was not.

and though her goal was to escape company, she nevertheless found it in a skinny whelp of a man. she halted as she neared him, appraising him with a harsh, mismatched gaze. after a moment, silent, she crushed the fish between her jaws. delicately, she lifted the tail end between her front teeth and tossed it toward him with a swish of her head.

the head, the brains, the eyes— those delicacies were hers. but no wolf deserved so shameful a death as starvation. not even those with balls between their legs.