Cerulean Cape Every line and every abrasion.

The golden leader hummed softly as he pointed his muzzle once more in the direction of the island just beyond the coast. He considered calling out to them, hoped his voice would carry across the sea - but how would they respond? Artyom could see no way across, and the waters were surely too treacherous to swim through safely. The approach of another from behind went unnoticed by the ranger, who could not hear the sound of paw steps in the sand above the noise of rolling waves. So he was startled, naturally, when a tone that differed from that of his guard spoke up, and he swung his head over a gilded shoulder to fix the speaker with a firm stare. He spoke of the island, how it belonged to a pack by an unfamiliar name, and requested information.

"Perhaps," Artyom responded, quick to pair the stranger with what little information he had of Aiolos' description with him. "I am Artyom, and this is Germanicus." He dipped his head in acknowledgement toward his greyscale comrade. "We are looking for someone who makes their home on the coast, by the name of Aiolos."