our dead drink the sea

There were a lot of things Levi did not like, but being shouted at by some bird was quickly climbing his list. His ears flicked to the sides, eyes narrowing into a squinty scowl. He usually didn't travel so far from the trees he called home but as fate would have it, here he was, looking annoyed as ever. As if the world itself was out to annoy him, just enough for him to grumble and squint. Just Levi things.

"What?" He asked none too kindly, glancing up at the bird as it made a right fuss. Clearly in distress. "What's got your feathers all twisted?" He could take a hint though, figured the bird was leading him somewhere that required help and- okay, that explained things somewhat.

A wolf was smeared across the sand, looking more like a drowned rat than anything candid. He tsked, as if greatly inconvenienced as he approached. He was not the right person for this, he was far better at hurting than helping. If nothing else they were conscious, awake but weak.

"Morte. That your loud mouth bird?" He asked, tail flicking to gesture to the sky.