Pretty Things

The yelling was enough to wake the dead, particularly if you were sprawled out belly up sunbake snoozing, probably drooling and snoring, just the other side of the nearest dune.

Ken rolled to his paws with a start and a snort, sending sand flying in all directions. Front paws spread wide, holding onto the earth beneath him, butt half popped in the air while his head whipped one way and then the other, he finally relaxed enough to yawn and shake his head, his back end collapsing back against the warm sand. It wasn't a call for blood, there wasn't a raid upon them, it was just one of Ig's kids looking for a hand. Well, she supposed he could help.

Rising and shaking the worst of the sand from his fur he sauntered over to the young pup that seemed to have a gathered a small pile of shells in front of him, far too many for one wolf to carry on their own. "Need help gettin'em somewhere?" He hollered out, tail waving a welcome at his back.

"speech"