Ankyra Sound you got good looking friends, you're a sharp-dressed man

The world was ending - that was his takeaway, his twisting gut and frazzled fur giving so much away as he coursed across the sand. The crashing of angry waves made even the familiar sea feel antagonistic. The boy ran and ran, only stopping because the soil gave out and he had to spin and catch himself; and when he righted his posture he saw canid shapes, towards which he flew.