Stavanger Bay before i know it, one day...

Beneath a night sky dotted in wisps of clouds, he roved into the reaches of Stavanger Bay and loped onward, bound for the edge of the land first and foremost. He found a riverway to follow to the beach, and in tracking it for some way, he was granted good passage onward in following its course.

After pause enough to take in the expansive night, and the roll of the waves into a horizon that seemed everlasting, he was back to motion--to go wade enough to wet his furs, and reward the pleasant burn in his muscles perhaps. Only momentarily, though, for once he cooled off, the Ostrega then carried on to scout the area better--intending to build up his comfort. He followed the sea a time, then went past the beach to where the grasses grew tall again.

Gazing thoughtfully over a vast field of emerald, his steps slowed, getting heavier by the stride. Eventually, he stopped entirely and set down his haunches. He settled himself in to just.. listen, watch the stars, hear the waves, feel the tall grass and all else here where he was determined not to think of anything else. And, soon, despite his relatively open exposure, he lowered down further and slipped to sleep somewhere along the way while dawn's first light began to creep in.

Afforded this deeper, darker sleep--where a part of him savored it, how restless he had been lately without help, he had nothing left to resist with once it gripped him. There was no arguing with the lullaby of a springtime beach, evidently and so finally, carelessly, he slept...

The sun's warmth on his shoulders eventually pulled him back come morning. Well--closer to afternoon, he guessed as he blinked off heavy sleep and pinned his ears at the sound of seabirds in the distance. He groaned lowly and unfurled stiff limbs, stretching, reeling; waking up here wasn't like him, but truly, what was? 

But, honestly, it was a full bladder that urged him to actually do anything. He hauled himself up to face the day once more; over a long pee, he decided he would spend it milling around on the beach, and the cove's woods before he returned willingly to any semblance of.. anything besides drifting along right now. That was where the plan drew to an abrupt end.

started as a read only for baggage but if anyone's around the area, i will leave open for a bit P:

the winter storms had driven her from these lands; cold and darkness, she was accustomed to, but the deep snowdrifts were dangerously unfamiliar. aeglaeca had sought refuge with a northern pack for a time, but she remained unattached. she earned her keep and left it at that, keeping to the outskirts and unwilling to form any deeper connection. their ways were foreign to her; incompatible.

when the snowmelt came, aeglaeca left in silence and under the cover of darkness. she knew none would attempt to find her. they would understand, perhaps even be relieved for it.

this coast intrigued her, and so she had returned, dissatisfied with the shallow introduction that winter had allowed. there was something special about the wilds, a tapestry of scents that alluded to generational history and multiple bloodlines. this— this was truly foreign. but perhaps there would be threads leading back to the sisterhood in this tangle. and if not, perhaps there would be some that would feel at home in the ways that she knew.

as she pressed on along the shore, a dark silhouette greeted her— followed by the strong scent of piss and testosterone. her lips peeled back in disgust, instinctual. this was perhaps the downside of the wilds.

it was crawling with men.

Switching his ears around, he sought cues for a good heading--a promising lead, any trickle of distraction, that he could turn into. Instead, what came most easily to him was to feel out of place here, an alpine wolf, one keen to the woods. The seaside was so unfamiliar still. Not terribly so, but he could feel his contrast loudly enough. Part of it he did want to blame on freshly awakening, after all. When was the last time he had slept like that? He couldn't answer that either.

Tsking to himself, he started to stride out after giving his furs a thorough shake. He paused soon after starting, though, to find another wolf seemingly tracing the shoreline. For a beat, he only watched, weighing his options; perhaps they came from a nearby seaside establishment, or hunted here. The nearest he knew was the island, but he also did not know exactly how close he was to their like either. It could very well be another traveler, too. So, until he could find out a bit more of the agouti's bearing, he would try to appear unassuming. He drifted closer towards an intercepting path with a long walk, and posture hung low despite the sharp look.

she froze, watching his movements carefully. her posture was guarded and perhaps uninviting, but she remained non-aggressive; a warrior, yes, but she was not one to scrap without cause. not even with men, though some would argue testosterone was a deserving enough crime. she swallowed thickly at the phantom taste of red blood, running rivers down her throat and breast.

aeglaeca blinked.

he was intercepting, cautious, a fair distance still between them— she sensed he would leave her, if she were to make it clear she was not interested in company. that was perhaps what she should do, but as before, the she-wolf sought information.

hello, she called, brusque.

He tried to read her motions, down to her finer details if he could even hope to, ears pricked tall though he kept the rest low, quiet still. Though he was willing to make this first semblance of a move, he was guarded too, and wondering as he went how much she would take from him--if she might push back, duck him entirely, humor him, or any number of thing he wouldn't know to anticipate.

The greeting came with a stiffness to it that made him wonder what type of line he was treading with her. Outright, she gave him few leads besides what he could see for himself. But, a keen eye knew better than to underestimate any opportunity. Hello, he returned with to match, though he intended less force in his own and dipped his muzzle neatly. Antares had scouted for his homes before so he had a few successes in encounters with strangers, but many that turned into nothing of use. Some, more than others, but now he had no structure, no nothing to rely on as his true, over-arching cause. He couldn't tell if he should savor the feeling, and consider it a great freedom, or a loss still. Passing through? he went ahead and asked the earthen agouti, not guessing she would share too much without it.