Sea Lion Shores water in my lungs

There was a certain sort of melancholy in the stranger's demeanour, as if some spark inside had died out long ago — if there had ever been one there to begin with. Redshank wasn't the most observant of wolves, but this he picked up on. It did little to garner any sympathy from him towards the man, however. They all had their plights, and sulking about it wouldn't make their circumstances any better.

His answer was unexpected. Amicable fella, wasn't he? Redshank shrugged again without sparing the two-toned wolf a glance, pausing to sniff at the tree's trunk. Again, the disgustingly sweet scent invaded his senses and he withdrew just as quickly. "Dunno," came his reply after a brief silence. The Cairn didn't have an answer for the man; his own sense of self had been lost for a long time now.

It was then he shot him a pointed look, "what's your name?"