Overcast skies hid away the winter sun, depriving the ocean shores of the little warmth it would have provided. The chilly sea mist clung to the black and white fibers adorning a skinny frame that seemed to hover along the sand at low tide. His wet black nose was covered in sand particles from sniffing along the cypress trees, banks, and washed up debris. Fully fixated on the task at hand, the wolf didn’t even pause to survey his surroundings. It was not long before he found something of interest, black paws digging beside the roots of a dead tree trunk. Sending sand flying as he pressed his muzzle to the spot, snuffling out a quick snack. It was only a few sand fleas, yet he flopped down and crunched on the couple he had managed to catch. After he had finished he licked his maw and rose to his paws to shake his pelt free of any particles that clung to it. Not quite enough to soothe his growling belly, but enough to keep him going. Geist huffed, setting his gaze across the water to an island that looked on the other side, its further reaches blanketed in an ominous marine fog. Over the strong sea smell, he could detect the scent of other wolves. They made their home on the islands just offshore of the mainland. Geist blinked, wondering what kind of treasures and food they had. He sure didn’t enjoy scraping around the shore gobbling up pathetic little crustaceans. He craved big game or fish, and he was incapable of getting those things on his own. He had no knowledge of traps or snares, he much preferred getting things the easier way. By stealing. His thoughtful stare was interrupted by the distant sound of sea pebbles clattering under clumsy steps barely audible between the crash of waves onto the shore. His sky blue eyes scoured the island across from him, nearly missing the movement of grey fur on its banks. He crouched as he watched the small wolf making its way closer to the water without a sound. Geist’s black and white fur didn’t hide him very well here, but the cypress trees still provided some shelter. What was the little grey pup doing out here unsupervised? G E I S T

There was something about the water that he couldn't get enough of, especially the fish that lived there. Alright, mostly the fish. As he trundled down towards the water, the runty little mongrel was getting ready to hop onto the raft that had been arranged by his father to help carry the weaker swimmers of the pack (AKA the idiot children who didn't think about drowning) from one shore to another. He hopped aboard, but let the movements of the tide carry the raft along its predetermined, rope-guided course towards the mainland. This gave him plenty of time to dangle his little paws in the water, occasionally kicking them to move the raft along when he got bored. Dangling toes, especially little ones, attracted attention from ocean creatures. Most weren't interested in properly visiting with him, but it was more than enough to simply watch the vague shapes dart to and fro beneath him. By the time the raft butted abruptly against the sandy shore of the mainland, he'd been so lost in thought that it gave him a legitimate fright. He squeaked once, quite loudly, and then shook himself back to the present. Ah, time to go! He stretched languidly, not a care in the world for danger or time or anything an adult might be considering at the moment. No, the boy was only concerned with adventure and making himself some new friends. There were supposed to be some very fun frogs in the mangrove a little ways away, and he had half a mind to go try to collect some to bring back home. As he stepped off the raft, he was reminded of the rules his father had been keen to lay out. Make sure it's solidly on land. So he trundled around to the water's edge, and busied himself for a few moments with kicking the lightweight watercraft firmly into place on the bank. If someone else needed it, they'd just have to wait. Or put in the work to dislodge it by pulling real hard on the far end of the rope. Not his problem. "Nimbus" raindrops by sqdpxl

Sky blue eyes burned into the small body as it scurried along and hopped onto a wooden raft. Geist had noticed the raft, but it bobbed on the far shore where it was no use to him. However, it seemed the young wolf knew how to operate the craft even though it was in a rather lazy way. The muscles in Geist’s legs were beginning to tire as he waited for the boy to finish drifting to his beach side. It seemed as if he hadn’t a card in the world, children knew nothing of the hardships and worrying drains of being an adult. Their parents doted on their every whim, fed, and protected them. Geist had no one but himself to look after him, but then, he also had no one to worry about either. As the raft finally washed onto the sand again the pup hopped off in a hurry, still oblivious to his presence. As it seemed he was about to leave, he turned and pulled the wooden structure further up onto the beach. It was then that the black and white male got up, and stalked in his direction. Perhaps he could convince the young boy to take him back across? Or maybe he could get some information out of him first, that would be safer. “Greetings, young lad!” he called out as he got up from a stalking crouch and into a confident trot, closing the distance between them. “My name is Geist, I saw you crossing the water on your wooden floater and I couldn’t help but wonder who made such a wonderful contraption?” his white tail swished behind him with a happy rhythm. “I’m no good at swimming you see, plus you never know what dangerous things could be lurking in the water.” he added. The boy was rather petite, and his pelt was now more clearly made up of splotches of greys, silvers, and near-black rather than just a solid monochrome tone. He had strange pink eyes and his scent was definitely that of the pack that lived on the islands. Kids were so naive, surely this pup wouldn’t be too hard to get information from. Regardless of the simplicity even if it would take all day, he had time. G E I S T