It wouldn’t be right to say that Timid had never seen an ocean before, but she hadn’t been that close to one until today.

Restless for some reason that morning, the small hybrid had wandered all over the pack territory. She’d kept to herself more or less, stopping occasionally to rest and hunt small game, and it was noon when she came across a strong odor. She recognized it as the border markings. She paused, leaning forward slightly, ears pricked and liver-black nose twitching.

Indecisive as always.

It was her third week in the territory, and Timid had not once set foot outside of the boundaries. There had been no reason to. Phoenix Valley had been everything that she’d imagined, though some of the humanlike customs had been hard to get used to. Most of all, the pack was safe. She wasn’t in danger of starving or getting picked off by a large stranger or predator when she was within the claimed territory, surrounded by bigger and stronger wolves.

However, curiosity and boredom overcame her misgivings, and she wandered forward. There was the sound of water lapping against sand, and the scarce mewls of seagulls. She anticipated a great vast beach and a gorgeous blue ocean, and as she padded up a slope dotted with scrubby bushes, she began to wag her black tail and run faster.

But as she came to the top of the hill, the view wasn’t quite as amazing as she’d anticipated. The beach was very rocky, with tufts of sea grass popping up here and there. There was a very cool breeze in the air, making her shiver in her thin reddish-cream coat. She began to pick her way down the hill, avoiding sharp stones and grass, her small pads making indents in the sand. The smells here were fresh and interesting, and she licked a stone to taste the salt. This isn’t too bad, she decided, leaping onto one of the rocks and then splashing down into a small tide pool. Water splashed up around her twiggy forelegs and wet her pale throat.

Suddenly, pain lanced up her tail.

With an unbecoming yelp, the lupus hybrid whirled around to see the cause of the agony. She lashed her tail and stared at a dull brownish thing clinging to its tip. Spinning in a circle for a few moments, she became dizzy pursuing the attacker, and flopped down in the sand. The pain was deadening as she got more used to it, and it simply became an unpleasant pressure in her spine. When she managed to crane her neck to get a look at the assailant, she had to giggle. It was a crab.

But the fun didn’t end there. As she tried to think of a way to remove the crustacean, a mangy seabird noisily flapped over to a nearby rock. The gull peered at the crab hungrily and then swooped down, its beak clamping on the free pincer as it tugged at its prey. However, the crab was attached to a half-wolf, and she wasn’t thrilled about the newcomer.

“What the hell?!” Timid yapped, spinning around and coming face-to-face with the seagull. It cried out in shock as she leaped at it, but the movement of her tail caused pain to run through her spine again. Wincing, she growled at the bird, which strutted around the sand to get to her tail again. The process repeated itself a few times, until Timid decided it wasn’t worth the fight.

So she took off, a crab dangling from her tail, a seagull in pursuit.

The mangy bird mewled as it chased the inadvertent bait latched onto her tail, and Timid flattened her black-marked ears against her slender head in protest. She contemplated lashing out at the annoying little brute, but no doubt it would just peck her between the eyes and send her for a loop. She’d never had to fight a bird before; her experiences were limited to being shooed into the den when eagles started to circle in search of easy meat. An undersized pup would have been easy pickings. Luckily, the gull was interested only in the crustacean and not in devouring the hapless hybrid, so she wasn’t in danger of being eaten.

Yet.

The jackal-mix all but barreled into an impossibly large beast coming toward her, and she let out a yip of shock as she spun around again. She could hear a voice calling out and thought that it was speaking to her. Unaware that the seagull had been chased away, she dove behind a pile of rocks. Peeking over the edge so that only her large ears and yellowish eyes showed, she stared in shock at the giant wolf.

Timid was no stranger to luperci; she was one, and had shifted a few times before. However, the shock of seeing a stranger with such a large stature was terrifying. The others that she’d seen were smaller, maybe a foot taller than her own optime form at the most, but he was around three heads bigger than her. That, and he was muscular, and masculine, and all around a threat.

Cautiously, she stepped out from behind the rocks, but with stiff legs and bristling hackles. She curled her lips back to show small but sharp teeth, but it was apparent that the quiet snarl did not belong on her face. She relented after a moment of sizing him up and stuttered, “Y-you’re h-huge.” And with that obvious statement, she was ready to make a run for it, when she had a better look at him—his fur, rather than his muscle mass and height. “And covered—covered in maroon. How’d you do that?”

Then she remembered that she was terrified, and her curious gaze quickly became suspicious.

The tall male quickly adopted a placating expression, to assure her that he wasn’t a threat, and laughed a little as he said that he was just a big teddy bear. She frowned slightly, shuffling her pale paws in the sand and pondering over his words. Either he was being sincere, or he was trying to lure her into a false sense of security. Her paranoia twisted his kind, chuckling words into an ugly threat, but common sense shone through. After all, if he would hurt her, she doubted that she would be able to defend herself against him. All she could do was be trusting.

“Raspberry dye?” Timid echoed, breaking out into an amused smile despite herself. She had seen some wolves before that liked to paint their fur and engrave markings into their flesh, and she summed them up in one word: crazy. Or maybe unappreciative. They were usually beautiful creatures without all of the dye and piercings and tattoos, she thought, or prettier than she ever was. At least in her lupus form, as nonsexual of a shape as she could obtain, she had an interesting coat going for her. It was a part of the reason why she hated to change form.

“You realize you have a passenger on your tail; would you like me to take it off?” the tall maroon-marked male asked, and she swallowed.

“I’ve got it,” the jackal-hybrid told him firmly, and she twisted around to get at the crustacean. However, the crab used its free pincer to defend itself by flexing it threateningly at her nose. She scowled and looked at the male. She wanted to keep her distance from him, but she wanted to rid herself of the slow, dull pain throbbing in her tail.

“Excuse me,” Timid mumbled, and she took a few steps back.

The shifting was an unfamiliar sensation to her still, her bones elongating, her muscle working over new shapes, her fur growing out. She winced slightly at the crackling of her body, but there was no pain, only an uncomfortable sensation of pressure and pulling. Finally, she was in her optime form, still sitting on the ground. Her fingers, the only nimble thing about her, pulled at the crab until she could fling it carelessly onto the sand, where the seagull began harassing it again.

If she were human and furless, she would be blushing, but it was apparent she was not comfortable. She opted to keep sitting and craning her neck to look at the male, for if she were to stand, she wouldn’t look half as graceful as him despite his large size.

“So, er—what’s your name?” Timid asked, needing to fill the awkward silence.