cake by the ocean

Hyperion was trotting down the beach with a singular question on his lips. He ran from person to person, or person to persons - he feared no rustling bushes - and asked his question with the sort of intensity that most wolves found immediately off putting. Wolf after wolf turned him down and he couldn't understand why. It was such a shame too because it was a great question and he loved sharing. That was his singular purpose here at this party. To share. Or to take depending on how you looked at it, but he liked to think of it as sharing.

Seizing upon the small, lonely-looking pale woman, Hyperion made a beeline for her. He skidded up to her, his white toes disappearing in the black sand, and fixed her with a wide-eyed, innocent look. This was his moment. He was going to ask his question. Slurring a little, he said his favorite words of the night, "Hey, wanna see my shark?"