Sea Lion Shores the preacher in a t-shirt told me i could be a leader

She hadn't meant to go this far out, really.
She'd been so distracted, searching for rocks along the shoreline that led to the landbridge. By the time she'd realized it, she'd been so far out already; and so she just... kept walking.
She grew more confident with every step, even as the tides had begun to reach her wrists and ankles. She found herself laughing at how easy it had been, laughing at the freedom that she felt surging through her body, urging her to move onward — but as she set foot upon the mainland, she realized that she could no longer see the bridge.
What faced her now was uninhabited nothingness as far as the eye could see. No others greeted her, no grand scenery or fresh prey, no valiant pack of warriors like the moon-people Gramma had come from that would celebrate her bravery.
Just empty beaches with roaring waves, and aside from that; quiet. An eerie kind of quiet, one that she felt now in her bones. She found that even when she shouted, her words did not go far.
This wasn't what she thought it'd be like.

Half a year had passed since the fire. Or thereabouts, he wasn't counting the days.

He remembered everything that had happened after the fact much too clearly. Mainly the last conversation with his mother where she'd volleyed off so many cruel salvos in a row, like she'd lined them up just for him on the big day of his dispersal. Don't look at me like that. It's so goddamned sad - and all, it still made his chest hurt to think about it, it hurt like heartburn after a too-big meal. I wish it'd been you instead of him. Gee, ma, I could've gone my entire life without knowing that.

He paced the length of the beach, stewing. Just beyond him, the world's edge was a lovely shade of blue, and the sun shone like it never had all season, but Gav was ever the ungrateful tourist.

A shout caught his ear, muffled enough for him to chalk it up to an echo, or hallucination - but a glance down the shore confirmed he wasn't alone.

Hey, kid, he called out, keeping his distance. The last thing he wanted was a pair of angry parents on his tail. You lost?

A voice responds to her plea, and it is not one she recognizes.
When she turns around, she's met with a strange man; eggshell in pelt, and a giant, pinkish scar snarls across one half of his face. Her gut reaction was to say ew, but that would be ungodly of her, and so she doesn't. The fur of her nape bristles high and her tail puffs as she stiffly shuffles around to face him. No, she barks; because she wasn't. She knew, vaguely, where she was, and she could see her home in the distance — she just couldn't exactly get back there seeing as the bridge was now water.
She'd never been faced with something quite like this before. Usually, when she met strangers, they were intruding upon her land, not the other way around. So, she does what any startled and sheltered child would do: self-defense. my parents are alphas and if you try to hurt me, they'll get you.

dinah's shadow was not the only thing to accompany her across the bridge. ava followed at a great distance, sometimes pausing to regain her bearings. it had been malakai to inspire her to behave so -- for if he followed his siblings around, maybe she should too.


as the tide rose and the landform filled in ava lost sight of her sibling. a quiet stole across the beach, leaving ava with the sensation she was irrepressibly alone.

voices carried over the wind. ava perked up and made for them at a jaunty trot, stumbling through thick sand. before long she was rewarded with dinah's silhouette -- but it was the stranger that commanded the full of ava's attention.

ava's eyes widened as they climbed up the man's seashell white form, resting on the dark scar that sundered his face. he was like her! she reached for his face with a breathless gasp. if another wolf -- who by all accounts looked perfectly normal and totally not evil -- had it, maybe she wasn’t cursed after all.

It took him ages to finally knot the dried seaweed around the sticks. Actually, he didn’t tie it so much as wrap it over and over and over until they were securely bound together. Caracal then placed the talisman on the sand to admire his handiwork. He’d seen this symbol in his dreams the other night and though his was a crude replica—it looked much more like an “X” than a proper cross—he was pretty darn proud of it.

He snatched it up in his teeth and went striding along the beach, keeping an eye out for his wife and kids. Caracal wanted to show them what he’d crafted. He didn’t see anybody around the south side of the island, though an absent glance at the mainland across the channel made Caracal do a double take. His mouth fell open, the makeshift crucifix nearly tumbling out only to be caught when he clenched his teeth an instant later.

He was in the water, shouting garbled things around the object in his mouth. (Even in his distraction, he refused to let all those hours of hard work sink to the ocean floor.) Very noisily, he swam toward the shore where his daughters were entirely too close to a large and very frightening stranger.

As soon as he felt the sand under his feet, Caracal launched out of the water and sprang toward the wolf with the marred face. He didn’t attack him outright, though he attempted to get in between him and the girls. Successful or not, he whirled on the man and finally released the cross, only to grab it in a fist and thrust it in the man’s scarred face.

THE POWER OF CHRIST COMPELS YOU! Caracal menaced.

Just his luck. It wouldn't just be two angry parents, but alphas. And if this girl raised her voice even slightly, well, that'd be it for him. Weren't kids supposed to be the fabled canary in the coal mine, the cagey pet in the haunted house movie? He was fine with an adult calling him a good-for-nothing, as they often did, but this shrimp had known him for all of five seconds! And that was enough for her to mark him off as unwanted? The last scraps of his self-esteem hung tenuously by a thread, buffeted by a freak wind.

He drew back, more embarrassed than anything. His scar smarted and itched terribly as blood rushed to his face.

I ain't gonna hurt you, kid, he laughed, but he was miserably serious.

Yet another girl approached them - siblings? - this one smaller, a total dust mote with a shock of red on her face. At least she didn't seem to hate his guts from the get go. He sent her a half-hearted wave even as he turned away with the full intention of leaving before he was skinned alive by the powers that be.

Too late. The belated bureaucrat arrived in the form of some redheaded manchild who waged war on his personal space and screeched something incomprehensible. Gav tripped over his paws and landed flat on his back, arms crossed over his chest.

I followed all the rules! I'm not trespassing! I didn't harm a single hair on those girls! A useless torrent of words swarmed around his closed mouth as he stared, cross-eyed, at the strange wooden contraption only inches away from his snout. 

I'm sorry, he gasped. Don't kill me. Don't kill me. He squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the end, the bright light, the trumpets, and the angels dancing on the heads of pins.

In the span of what must have been only a few minutes but felt more like eons, her attempt at exploration had become something more like a fiasco.
First, the strange man with the scary face proclaimed his lack of desire to cause harm. This, naturally, Dinah did not believe immediately. How do I know that? she grumbles, pearly little teeth poking from under her upper lip. And then, she inundates him with her questions as she begins to circle him, initial fear giving way to feistiness. Who even are you? Why'd you come here? What happened to your face? Do you know my Daddy and my Mama? God's gonna be mad at you if you hurt me, y'know. He says you should be nice to people.
And then, as if it was some cruel joke, out of the corner of her eye, she swore she saw Ava. And upon further inspection, she discovered that she was right. She hadn't even the time to speak or react before Ava toddled her way up to the stranger and stuck her little nose in his face. Bitter at first, but then seeing an opportunity, she decides that Ava could be her shield if this man got any funny ideas. That would teach her a lesson.
But then.
A hideously cartoon-y splashing sound rings in her ears, and when her head turns, she's greeted with the amorphous silhouette of her Daddy barrelling straight for them. He had something in his mouth; what was that? And of course, she hadn't the time to ask. The object is in the stranger's face just as Ava had been only moments prior, and Daddy shouts at him.
Dinah is stunned. Her little jaw falls slack, and all she can think to do is scuttle backwards with her tail woven between her legs. And then, without even thinking, she takes off running as fast as her bony legs could carry her further into the mainland.

the scar minted across the man's face compelled all of ava's attention. a whirlpool of emotions stormed her chest: wonderment, awe, something as fragile and daring as hope --

and it is dashed to the ground in mere seconds, the illusion she could be anything besides other stolen from her as the man turned from her advances, cowed to the ground by the storming of caracal and that hideous thing --

dinah has fled into the woodlands. her shimmering shape was a blur in the trees.

ava sat miserably upon the ground and began to cry.

Caracal knew a moment’s satisfaction when the stranger scrambled away from him, stumbling and falling flat on his back. He shook the fist clutching the crucifix in triumph, which was incredibly short-lived when he realized that he’d just assaulted a harmless stranger; Dinah was inexplicably fleeing the scene; and he’d upset Ava again.

He sagged in spiritual defeat, eyes pinned on Dinah’s quickly retreating form. Why on earth would she run away like that? Caracal shouted her name, begged her to stop, but he was rooted to the spot. He couldn’t leave the crying Ava with a stranger, no matter how genuinely apologetic and submissive he appeared.

I’m not, Caracal began, unsure whether he was talking to Ava or the stranger, feeling incredibly futile and frustrated by Dinah’s dramatic exit. I was just trying to look out for you girls. Stranger danger and all that, he continued uselessly, holding out an arm in case Ava would come to him for a hug, which he doubted.

Caracal took a breath and set down his handmade totem. He then offered that arm to the scarred man, to help him to his feet if he accepted. He sort of expected to be rejected on that front too, though he didn’t feel particularly sorry for his his behavior toward him. He was only sorry for its effect on his daughters.

Swallowing, he sent up a quick howl asking for @Heda, @Everett, @Hviske or @John to come to his aid. Someone needed to go after Dinah.

She took off like a rocket, with nothing but divots of upturned sand to mark her departure. 

His forehead dimpled as confusion made itself clear on his face - then resolved itself into reluctant understanding. He clambered back onto his feet, muttering a thanks to the ginger evangelist. Despite this act of hospitality, Gav couldn’t shake off the frigid panic of believing oneself to be in mortal danger. 

He didn’t blame the first girl for running away; in fact, he wanted to do the very same. Even for someone as socially inept as him, he could sense all the mores and conventions solidifying in the air. He rolled around words in his mouth like hard candy until they disappeared. 

He stared at the wooden thing on the ground, now crooked, the two sticks at disconcerting angles. Then back at the crying girl, for whom he felt an unexpected swell of empathy that nearly bowled him over. 

Don’t cry, he urged, with the same gingerness of someone under a restraining order who nevertheless wants to impart some good. Your pack’s here for you. Safe as safe can be. A blond ear flicked back at the redhead’s howl. Some trepidation in the gesture, in the way he hunched his shoulders.

I’ll catch up on the situation later. ;)

John heard caracal’s cry for help from his current position on the island. He made haste for the scene featuring Caracal, a stranger and a very upset Ava Amara. He spoke with Caracal, and upon finding out Dinah Ran off, he gazed at the paw prints left behind in the sand, reached his nose down to grasp her scent, and took off in search of her. Hopefully, others would come to help, as this whole situation seemed to be complicated.

As he followed her Sandy wake, the prints led him deeper into the land of which it all began. This mainland was large, but with the scent of Dinah stuck to his nose, he trudged on.

She wasn't sure where she was headed or what her plan even was.
Away. She needed to get away from the man, away from Ava, daddy's harsh yelling, away—
Heart in her throat, her gangly limbs take her eastward; east, yes; east was fine, it would do. The din of her family's voices — Ava's wailing, the shouts of her name, the nameless blond man trying to diffuse — all of it became ever distant. Into the reeds, the pockets of tallgrass she found herself crouching in. And then, she sees her chance; a stack of large boulders, a neat, dark crevice in the middle!
There, she would hide. Thin little body now scrambling as the rocks teeter and shudder, paws digging at the packed sand beneath; all until she felt she was sufficiently protected, ears bent back and tears ravaging eyes of sapphire as they silently burn against her cheeks.
She clasps her paws over her face, swallows the whimpers. For one of very few times in her life up until now, she felt afraid. What would Daddy do if he found her? Why did she run in the first place? She didn't even know what she would say if he asked her. And most importantly, what was she going to do now?

a commotion ensued too overwhelming for ava to parse. 

nearby in the sand, that rudimentary cross thrummed with hateful energy that forced ava to turn away. 

she buried her face — her shameful face — in caracal’s reaching embrace. somewhere nearby the man in the mask spoke, his words soothing. 

but ava was not soothed. why the screaming, the running, the arrival of a new man who was sent speedily after dinah’s fleeing form? 

was it in the curse of the stranger’s marked face?

was it her own?

while dinah buried herself in some distant crevice, ava sat dumbly on the sand with tears darkening her ruined face.

The stranger urged Ava not to cry, which made Caracal’s hold tighten a little when she pressed against him. But he appreciated the sentiment. He, too, wished the child wouldn’t weep. His girls were safe, so why did they react like this? Caracal didn’t get it. He swallowed thickly, gazing in the direction Dinah had gone.

John appeared and Caracal wasted no time filling him in and urging the young missionary to fetch his elder daughter. When John swept after Dinah, Caracal felt a small bit of relief. He gazed down at the top of Ava’s head, then to the ramshackle crucifix, before his eyes sought the stranger’s.

What’s your name? I’m Caracal Redhawk. This is Ava, he introduced, toes gently kneading her slim shoulder blade, and the one who runofft was Dinah. He sniffed in that direction. And John. We’re from the island there. And we’ll go back home, just as soon as the tide goes out, he finished, speaking mostly to the top of his daughter’s head.

A stream of names. His mouth parted in dismay. 

I'm Gavrel, he blurted. And I'm sorry Dinah ran off...

He wanted to make like an ostrich, bury his head in the sand.

But just a few feet away from him the spindly cross lay on the beach like a talisman from an alien civilization - and the sand no longer seemed so welcoming.

It's all my fault, he said miserably, although he wasn't sure what to believe. He cast an anxious look to the forest and prayed earnestly for the wellbeing of another for the first time in his harrowing life. Please, let that kid come back in one piece...

John kept his nose low, hastily tracking the Dinah’s scent. And her footprints, those helped too. As he got closer, he used his ears, moving them in all directions until he picked up the sound of sobbing. His heart ached at the sound of it. — He rounded the corner of a large pile of rocks, then he found her small, furry form. Eyes covered by her dainty paws.

He stuck his head toward the crevice, as he could not fit in it. “Dinah,” he soothed, and lifted his paw, motioning her into a hug. “come here.”Everything is okay. Your perfectly safe.”

Dinah was not his daughter, nor his sister, or even a cousin, but he felt close to her, and Simeon. He hoped that perhaps he could bring sweet Dinah some comfort, and reassurance.

Her chosen place of refuge was quiet. Peaceful; no voices, no crying except for the quiet but violent waves of her own, no strange man. She let her tears dry on their own and the streams of snot and spit simmer to quiet hiccups.
By the time she had gathered herself, the thump of paws could be heard just outside her little boulder-hut and a face appeared, reaching for her; John, she thought his name was, that man who was on the shore that day, and her emotions burst once again in the form of blistering resentment.
He reaches to pull her into an embrace and her response is a show of pearl-white teeth, eyes wide and scared and lips tight in their curl, body cowered and pressed rigid against the seastones. You can't make me, she seethes, ears pulled back; you're not my daddy. I want him!
But did she? She didn't know. She thought she did, but now her eyes stung with more tears, and her voice felt gravelly and her face was hot at the mere mention of his return, and she didn't even know why.
She didn't want him. He didn't need her problems; she'd made him sad enough before, and she remembered it, that night on the beach as thunder licked at their backs and she clung to his shoulders. She knew the hurt in his eyes from that night, and it made her feel as if her world was crashing down all over again as she thought of it.
And Ava; oh—
Dinah cried for everything and yet nothing at the same time. She decided then and there that she would come back on her own terms.
Leave me alone.

dinah was out of sight now. ava's sullen gaze fell on the stranger, studying every notch of that open scar.

feeling her shoulderblades kneaded by her father's touch, ava suddenly didn't want to be here anymore. forlornly, she wished she was like dinah and had made for the verdant tree line.

it was too late for her to run. she adopted the sulky mien of a child enduring adult small-talk; she'd no doubt the fun was over, and soon her father would insist they head for home.

The protective part of Caracal agreed with Gavrel. It was his fault. But the more easygoing, reasonable part of him shook his head. His daughters had left the island and austensibly approached an unsuspecting stranger. That wasn’t on him, nor was the way Caracal had overreacted.

He looked down at the top of Ava’s head again. He could’ve pointed out that the girls were to blame, though that didn’t seem particularly productive either. Caracal raised his eyes and puffed out his cheeks, gazing again in the direction Dinah had run, chased after by John.

It’s no one’s fault. It was just a… silly situation, Caracal replied. Since there’s nothing to do but hurry up and wait for John to bring back Dinah—and the tide, of course—why don’t you tell us a bit about yourself, Gavrel? Where did you come from? Where are you going? Do you have any questions for us?

Silly situation was right, but Gavrel could not help but feel like he had trod into something more ominous than he was fully conscious of, as if he had upturned a stone and let sunless creatures with segmented bodies crawl out into a world that had previously thought itself only inhabited by capital-G Good things. His heart and stomach clenched with dread.

Shit, I'm so sorry, he managed to stammer out, his tongue impeding speech rather than facilitating it. I mean, there was a fire back home and—

He could still see it when he closed his eyes, that great fist of smoke dense enough to blot out the sun.

And I ran. And I just... he swallowed. I've just been running.

Under Caracal's questioning, he felt like an unruly child or a petty criminal, someone who had lost the fight against impulse in the most humiliating manner possible.

I'll stay until they come back. His ears pinned close to his head. Uneasiness animated his every gesture.

He didn’t expect that answer, though it made Caracal’s eyes skitter over Gavrel’s burns with piqued curiosity. His heart went out to the man, who stumbled over his words about a fire that must’ve destroyed his home along with his face.

I’m sorry for your losses, Gavrel, he said solemnly.

His eyes caught on the makeshift crucifix on the ground. Holding onto Ava with one arm around her shoulders, he reached for it with the other. A Godly man would offer his fellowship to this ailing stranger, Caracal knew, but something about the whole situation stymied him.

They made small talk until all wayward daughters were collected and they could make the crossing. Caracal ushered John and the girls ahead, then scooped up his cross and paused to look at Gavrel one last time. He smiled, waved and then looked away, guiding his family home, trying not to think of it as leaving Gavrel out in the cold.

Wrapping for us! :)