his paws ached—especially the back one that always turned out just a bit more than the others—and the sand between his toes had long since dried into itchy clumps. his ribs poked sharp beneath thinning fur, and even though the sun was kind today, it didn’t warm the heavy little stormcloud that followed him everywhere lately.
he’d gotten turned around days ago. or maybe it had only been one? the sky was starting to blur, and so were the trees. everything smelled salty, like the sea he remembered faintly, and that gave him the smallest flicker of hope—maybe he was close to winsook. maybe mom was just around the bend.
he stumbled, ears flattening, and let out a soft, frustrated huff.
okay,he muttered aloud to no one in particular, his voice small and stubborn.
not the best plan i’ve ever had. but… maybe someone’s here. someone nice.
the boy crept closer to the invisible line of another's claim, head low, eyes wide. he didn’t howl. didn’t dare. but he sat down awkwardly near the edge of the border, tail curled tight, heart pounding. waiting.
just in case.
July 22, 2025, 07:30 PM
pack died but had this partly written sooo
A scent. A scent! Another which she did not know. Another to either disappoint, to cause havoc or to offer bad news. At least so much expected by the often occurrence.
The sea wench would not be nice to any men. However, what she narrowed her eyes on now was still but a boy. Not even in his yearling time, as herself, but far younger. Still alive, despite being alone in the wilds. If they brought in a boy, maybe the sea queens could mold him into their favor?
Wat you be doin here, boy?The words sharp, as sharp as her eyes which narrow on him as she creeps through the thick of the redwood.
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