Sequoia Coast show no mercy

open for anyone though he's lookin' for a certain someone! :D

With the Captain left somewhere to galavant down the coast on his own, Roach hastily beat a path away from him. Of course, he intended to do what he was told if only for the fact that he was certain Ferahgo's eyes would have lingered on him. And with the weather clear and the coast relatively flat, he would not test the limit at which the wolf could follow him with his gaze. The worry of that plagued him for several minutes until he pushed through it, intent on finding this @Blurryface fellow.

And that was what reminded him, he was a coywolf as well. A coywolf living well with the likes of a wolf or in his instance Roach imagined wolves seemed almost outlandish but not impossible. And it was clear to him that Ferahgo didn't care what they were made of up, as so long as it happened to be the right stuff. That stuff no doubt seemed to be a willingness to follow and so far, Roach hadn't come across a better deal.

Stepping over a strewn mass of driftwood that would have probably been easier to go around, he tested the air and found no trace of where he was supposed to be, or go. His gaze scanned the high tide line further up, wondering if he was supposed to find this galley or crew or whatever it was he was supposed to.

Sage had been trotting through the land, no particular reasoning for any of her where-abouts, except maybe entertainment. Upon walking through land, she caught the smell of a wolf...but not quite a wolf. The scent was on the tip of her tongue, but her mind was coming to blank. Without further ado, she followed the smell. Unsure if she was going to come across trouble, but danger didn't bother the girl very much, in fact she loved danger. Even if this wasn't very thrilling. The dark female spotted the source of the smell not very far from her first indication, the male was turned around for the moment, so she barked to gain his attention.

"Arrr!" Blurry snarled at a fallen gull. It had died in midair—a heart attack or some other stupid bird problem—and fallen into the sea, where it was carried to shore, to be found by a veritable bilge rat. His lips stretched into a long, thin grin as he pranced up to the soggy carcass, swinging his thick tail merrily. It wasn't a hearty meal, but it was better than the pinchy barnacles and the days old salt fish he'd found earlier, so it was certainly an improvement over the current provisions.

He fished it out of the water, holding it with surprising tenderness between his yellowed and half-rotten teeth, and made a half turn before he caught sight of a fellow striding along the beach. The swab dropped his fare and placed a skinny paw on it, as if he of all pirates was intimidating enough to keep it, and he shot a jeer at the approaching coywolf. "Ahoy, matey," he called out, pricking his ears in hopes Roach would respond in kind. "Wha' brings ye down me way, bucko? Ain't ye heard, these waters be those of Cap'n Blackbeard, mos' a-feared pirate king o' the seven seas!"

He would've prattled on, singing Ferahgo's praises, had his eyes not caught upon another, and his nose not hooked the scent of female. His jeer widened and he stepped forward, forgetting all about his drowned gull, as his attention shifted to the maiden in the near distance. "Avast, lass," he said, and then with a perverted snort, he asked, "ye care for a swabbin', wench?" Blurryface cared for a swabbing, so much that he continued stepping forward as if he had already been invited.

But of course, pirates didn't need invites to do whatever they liked to any wench.

Not further up the coast, he spied out the coywolf and his scraggily form just in time to see him acknowledge his approach and cover his quarry. Roach was hailed far sooner than he would have anticipated and if there had been any doubt of who the fellow was, it went out the window as soon as he opened his mouth to speak. It was that same accent, albeit it far more nasally than he had heard from Ferahgo. He was about to respond when Blurryface's snap motion to something else hadn't drawn his attention away.

He spotted them, yet another dark mass belonging to a wolf with a peculiar folding of their ear. It was a memorable thing about them and in a moment of worry, he certainly hoped it would not be the last thing he would recall. His steps came to a slow halt nearer to his fellow coywolf, though admittedly it did not make him feel any better about their company. Ferahgo hadn't been mistaken about his swab's heritage — Roach was distinctly the larger one here. But the space between them was decent and for the time being, he surveyed them with his own head raised high, wondering what events would transpire by the approach of his smaller counterpart.