Ocean's Breath Plateau careful when you come through my way

There was no question the wolf before her was a wolf of the sea. She could not claim that he spoke of the ocean with fondness—it seemed to surpass that, and bore from a great understanding. Solemnly, she took his words, her gaze idly darting back to the mass of blue water before she felt an empty sense of what could only be described as sadness and jealousy. Never had she been part of something or from somewhere that she could speak so confidently about.
 
He was a man of little words, and Ketzia could accept such—but it didn’t stop the pale sparrow from tilting her exotic muzzle in his direction, her gaze studying the man, albeit with a neutrality that would not meet his gaze full on. “Can you tell me more of it?”