old stomping grounds

Levi turned, gold tipped ears tilting as the pale stranger approached. There was an odd tilt to their voice, an accent he couldn't place. In the reaches of his mind he felt an urge to tell them to leave, that this was Armada land, but it wasn't, not any more. If this stranger felt like sniffing around old stomping grounds he was hardly going to stop them. There were no pack secrets to be found, no traces left behind, everything that was here had always been so. Nature just doing its own thing.

He turned and left the water, noting the tangled roots that dug into the sand. Steady and strong despite the tide.

"Hi." He said, dry and stale like an old loaf of bread.

Moving parallel along the beach he saw the Ashen islands in the distance, the archipelago well within reach if he chose to swim. Maybe if the weather was warmer, but dipping his paws was enough for now, especially since he didn't feel like making the trek back home sopping wet.