Cerulean Cape Sea & Moon, I pray to thee

Looking over the pretty little 'shark' with apple green eyes, he sheepishly smiles and a nod was offered. My life. He admitted. But who in the story did she think he was? Only time would find out and he would continue for her. The King, furious with his plight only became more bitter and in time, another spring of pups like any other, a child was born, not of his own. But his blood, no less, a grandchild yet out of wedlock, not approved by his blessing. A basterd. He explained and his paws shifted over the caked sands of the beach. The wages reached out to them, yet alas they remained out of reach by the tides. 

He hated the child, roughed him up, had his lackies torment him. 'To prove his right to be here in the pack', he'd say. A pause, head lifts high, bright amber eyes out to the Sea. And then the sirens came.