Totoka River I didn't actually sell my last car; I just forgot where I parked it

dated the 16th. Yuelong wolves?

The ocean was nice. That was an understatement, but Timberlake was so relaxed that he really couldn't come up with a better word than "nice." He'd let his stress ebb with the tides, chasing little scuttling crabs and pouncing in the surf. Slept under the warm sun, soaking up its rays. Rolled in the sand. Tasted salt.

He was every tourist on a beach, ever. He was loud, obnoxious and exuberant. And on the end of the third day, as the sun set over the horizon, Timberlake noticed the island.

He cocked his head as he stared at the dark lump across the waves, rising up from the sea. The tide was high, and thus the land bridge was not visible (and thus unknown to Timberlake). How did one get there? He could swim, sure, but he wasn't sure if he was up for the challenge. He would sink, surely. Maybe if he got up the gumption. . .

Indecision paralyzed him, standing at the water's edge.

His question would be answered soon enough- Huā was determined to head towards the coast no matter the level of the water. It took energy in massive amounts, and so that morning she had hunted and fished plenty enough to supply her. 

And so she came swimming across the waves, a real mermaid in the way she swam with such grace and familiarity. It was no easy task, and her breath came in deep pants, but eventually she would reach the shore. 

Before her, just a few yards ahead, stood a man coated in dark chocolate all over, and she admired the color of his fur for a moment before straightening herself up. Puffing her chest, tilting her chin just a tad upwards, as if to communicate the importance of her role. 

Who are you? She inquired, tone polite yet careful.

Timberlake didn't know what a mermaid was, but if he did, he'd surely think this woman was one. He gawked at her, so graceful and sleek, as she emerged from the water and stood regally before him. There were no words for a moment, coming eventually only as a strangled croak.

T-Timberlake, ma'am, he replied, dipping his head respectfully. She was an interesting color, too—everything was fascinating about her. He nodded toward the island. Did you come from there? Wow. . . I was thinking it would be pretty difficult to swim all that way.

So wolves did live on the island. What if some of his family was over there? He'd have to suck it up and become a fish for a while, he supposed.

She laughs girlishly- at the way he stares, stumbles over his introduction. The dip of his head is enough to please her, reminding her pleasantly of a bow. When he speaks of the island, she pays a small glance behind her before turning back to him, expression a tad proud (though she tried to hide it). Timberlake, is hard for many, yes, She drawls, pauses, continues- 

But not hard for me. I grow up by beach, know sea better than anyone. She laughs, tail wagging slightly. So, Timberlake, are you loner? Looking for home? She guesses, smelling no pack scent on his fur. Even a man who couldn't swim well could access the island when the tide was low- but she didn't feel inclined to share that information just yet.

Wow. She was lucky to have grown up in this environment. If Timberlake didn't love Round Valley so much, he'd consider relocating to the coast. It was beautiful — and the souls that inhabited it apparently were, too.

I have a home, he said, though not as confidently as usual, charmed as he was by the woman and her waves. I'm looking for family that might be around here. My mom, Pema, and my siblings Radcliffe and Meadow.

Timberlake cocked his head in silent query, almost a plea. Did she know them? Could they be on the island?

He affirmed that he had a home already, and though that was a slight disappointment, it wasn't going to kill her spirits or motivation to continue their little chat. And so when he told her that he was looking for lost loved ones, her ears perked with notable interest. Pema, Radcliffe, Meadow. They were certainly English names if she'd ever heard them- odd-sounding and meaningless (at least to her.) Meaningless in another sense, too, that she had never met such people. I not- I do not know these people. Where you last see them? She inquired. Perhaps she could still keep an eye open in her scouting trips.

His face fell. A long time ago, Timberlake murmured, looking down. Where were they? Where was his mother, who was meant to care for him, for his siblings? Padma had gotten hurt—he hadn't been there for her, but neither had anyone else.

They were family, and family was supposed to stick together. They'd done a rotten job of that.

Thanks, anyway, he told her, uncharacteristically sullen. He didn't say much more after that, only giving monosyllabic replies to any further inquiries she had. As entranced as he was by the sea-wolf, he was jaded by his fruitless quest. Eventually, they parted ways, and he moved on.