A history without a song

Late afternoon lulled around lazily like the waves lapping at the dark shore. Less languid was the form of Jack racing up and down the beach, bits of obsidian sand flicking off her paws with every kick. Well, maybe she wasn’t running up AND down, maybe just down, but Sparrow had only just gotten there and had only decided to imagine Jack doing sprints all day. Sparrow settled to watch the new pack ate as she frolicked. The sand was nice- much nicer than the mucky land she had found the woman in before. The pirates had a good real estate and though the beach was public property, they hadn’t had any trouble come from out just yet./

Sparrow considered calling out to the other, but Pongolo circled overhead and Sparrow figured she’d see her sooner or later. Sparrow wasn’t in a rush- besides, the view was good enough with the sunset and waves and racing woman in the distance.