Dragoncrest Cliffs Don't wanna talk, baby, I just wanna dance
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Ooc — Chelsie
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Haunt’s passing had another effect on Sobo: he did not want to waste another minute not knowing his packmates on account of being shy. On several occasions, he could have spoken to the intriguing three-legged she-wolf, but always he had let his timidity rule. Now she was gone and he would never know her story. Not the way she would tell it, anyway.

He meandered along the cliffside, looking for any member of the pack that was not his immediate family. Sobo wouldn’t object to spending time with them, either, but he was never going to get over being timid if he only spent time with Mireille, Njord, and his mothers. The wind whipped spray up to nip at his nose and ear-tips. Gulls cried in the distance, wheeling over the tumultuous surf, silhouetted against a pale midday sun. A pebble clattered away from where his paw scuffed the ground, drawing his gaze downward.

It was getting cold on the coast, but the boy didn’t notice thanks to his thickening winter pelt.

But despite looking for a while, there appeared to be no one home who wasn't his family, so he eventually retired back to the rendezvous site to cuddle with Mireille against the ocean chill.

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