Cerulean Cape the dog's half eaten buffalo ear

@Tuulikki

He did not know if any he had invited would come to the mountains, but he knew that not enough invites had been offered to content him, so his heavy paws drifted from the uneven terrain of the ridge to the flat expanse of the shoreline. Here he could see far, and here he knew was often a banquet of easily accessed food, something to attract the stragglers and loners, the sorts he wished to draw to himself in a mutual bid for survival.

His paws left obscure dents in the sand as he wandered down the edge of the river, his teeth reaching forward to snag a worn limb of driftwood as he coasted by it where fresh water and salt water embraced. He absently toyed with this stick, his tongue running about the sea-rounded edges, tasting the minerals and salts collected on it before the sharp points of his teeth indented and scored the smooth surfaces. Soon, the stick was dropped into the sand and pinned with a possessive foot, his incisors and canines now tearing strips and chunks free of it.

Traveling up the coast in the winter hadn’t been one of the best decisions Havelock has made but the thought of parting from the waves seemed impossible.  She’d been born on the coast, grew up with waves crashing around her, and the comfort that wraps around her on the loneliest of days and days she’s pained with hunger, it’s enough to soothe her and lull her to sleep each night and greet her the next day.

She’d past by several packs but her paws didn’t want to stop; if she stopped, she might have to come face to face with what she’d left behind and she’s not sure’s she’s ready for that. For now, she’s been able to get by, and if there’s a chance encounter with another wolf along the shoreline—as close as she can remain—then so be it. And the wolf she spots in the distance gets bigger as she approaches, her scent masked in the heavy layers of salt while the wind rushes back out to sea.

When Havelock is close enough, she barks, hoping to draw attention away from the other’s chew toy. The signs of winter doesn’t seem to touch him nearly as much as those she’s seen, or even herself, and she finds herself eager to meet him.

He had as much a need to chew as he had a need to eat and drink, and this need did not take long to be satisfied as he littered the damp sand in splinters and flakes tore free from the whole. One long strip became wedged between two molars as he chewed, and his face contorted in a series of near-comical expressions as his tongue worked doggedly to free it. Unsuccessful, his efforts to rid himself of the uncomfortable pressure between his teeth intensified. He pawed at his face, but though instinct had suggested to him to do so, his wizened mind quickly determined the futility and he lifted his head to contemplate another way. His tongue continued to probe and lick at the offending strip, and as if the answer could be read in his surroundings, he looked around.

He had been looking away, down the shore, when a bark caused his head to snap around, his gray eyes locking to a large white female. Her bark and her appearance was not cause for alarm, and he felt no lingering possessiveness over his mangled driftwood, so his tail waved slowly, inviting her closer. One end of the piece of stick caught in his molars jutted out from between his black lips.

Havelock is able to catch the other’s attention and she holds her breath long enough to see a tail swinging back and forth.  Her steps increase to approach upon invitation and closes the distance.  The other wolf becomes much more impressive the closer she gets. Large, monochrome.  At the angle she approaches, the stick blends in to the rest of his body but she turns to keep the water to her left and his view opens it up.

“You uh, you’ve got something…” she trails off and dips her nose to run her paw across the side.  Perhaps it had been what he was doing before she approached. 

HERE YOU GO! :P lolol

He was well aware of the piece of wood sticking out from his mouth, he could feel its sharp edges press against his lips. Fortunately, he was not the sort to be embarrassed about such a thing, he was rather nonchalant about even as the white female took notice once she had drawn closer. He nodded to her, the corner of his mouth pulling upward in a brief smile.

"Ah, yep," he confirmed. "It seems to like it there." He takes a moment to appriase her, a young healthy female with the simple scent of a loner whose coat did not bear the complex medley of scents that was common to pack wolves. He hums thoughtfully. "You heading somewhere in particular?" If she wasn't, perhaps he could steer her toward the ridge.