The mountain range descended into plains; the snow-dusted plains gave way to sand; and the sands came up against the pounding ocean waves. It was a cold morning, with crisp winds and a rather sluggish yellow sun that balanced on the blue horizon like a drowsy tightrope walker. The smell of salt and sea vegetation was carried in the breeze, and the lean, dark wolf lifted her slender muzzle into the wind, inhaling deeply. She had not been near the ocean in far too long.
Now, that wasn’t to say that she had a special connection to the sea. She enjoyed the company of it like she would a pack mate. She would talk to it, sometimes, silently or aloud, and she would race along its edge for the feel of running. When they had visited the shore as children, Tommy and her sisters had tried to see who could make the most paw prints before the water washed them away. She couldn’t remember who usually won the game, but she knew that her father would leap in with them from time to time and make intricate curves with his tracks.
Leaping onto a rocky outcropping and landing on all fours, the smoky-mottled hybrid turned around a few times and then settled onto her stomach. The stone was smooth and cool, and the waves sent spray into her face as they broke against it. Certainly, it painted a romantic picture, but Tommy was more interested in the feeling of the place and the relaxation that it brought. She was not one to sit outside herself and comment on how gorgeous the day was; she simply felt its beauty and enjoyed it with silent gratitude.
A seagull mewed overhead, and she looked up with a small smirk that showed a sharp fang. The bird seemed to be scrutinizing her, and she returned the favor with a lick of her lips. “Come a little closer,” she urged it softly, mirth laced in her quiet voice, “I dare you.” She pushed herself into a sitting position and reared onto her hind legs to gain more reach. The gull continued to circle lazily, calling from time to time, riding the winds as they blew toward her. She teetered on the edge of the outcropping, balanced on her hind limbs in lupus form. She probably looked ridiculous, pale yellow eyes intent on the bird while her mouth parted slightly in expectation, but she didn’t care. She was simply waiting for the stupid avian to come close enough for her to make breakfast out of it.
<style type="text/css">
.tsantil-a02 b {font-weight:bold; color:#412219;}
.tsantil-a02 i {font-weight:italic; color:#412219;}
.tsantil-a02 ooc {padding:0px; font-size:10px;}
.tsantil-a02 p {text-indent:25px; padding:5px 10px; margin:0px; font-size:12px;}
.tsantil-a02 {margin:0px auto; width:475px; background-color:#fdfeff; background-image:url(http://i51.tinypic.com/15oa4cw.jpg); background-position:top center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:1px solid #000000; padding: 460px 0px 24px 0px; font-family:cambria; font-size:12px; color:#60392c; line-height:16px; letter-spacing:.5px; text-align:justify;}
</style>[/html]