Horizon Ridge sunny, money, keep it funky

Darkmoon had never seen the sea before. The salty wind was harsh and stung his eyes, and the roar of the ocean flooded his senses. It was also much colder out here than in the cover of the forest, and the gale chilled his frail body to the bone. He had not eaten a proper meal in a while, surviving off scavenged rotting carcasses instead, but it was far from enough to fill out his frame. Malnourished, weak and starving, he was willing to go anywhere to look for food.
    So it was that Darkmoon trotted, wraith-like, along the pebbly shore of the beach. He was approaching a large mess of boulders, the after math of some tragedy it looked like. He did not know much about coastal ecosystems, but he knew there must be shelter among the rocks and where there was shelter, there was often food. That much Xolea had been able to teach him in the short time they had known each other, before she left him. Alone.
    As he approached the rubble, however, the movement of a white shape high above him drew his attention. It appeared to be another wolf, although it was too far away to glean any more information, and so far seemed not to have noticed him either. Darkmoon was not sure what made him climb the rocks to confront her - maybe he thought she would know of or be a source of food - but he picked his way up the boulders anyway, trying to clamber up the boulders as quickly as he could before she got away. "Hey!" he called out, trying to grab her attention.