Judas padded serenely along the windswept shoreline, his pawprints unrolling like a carpet behind him, welcoming him home. The waves crashed joyously, heralding his return with applause like thunder and the foamy spray coated his magnificent pelt with pearls. He shook himself haphazardly, his fur sticking up in tufts so that he did not appear kingly at all, and even the gulls that soared high above wouldn't guess he was an heir to the sandy Glorall throne. Far in the distance he could see the small island that was his father's favorite haunt, surrounded as it was by the gleaming blue of the sea, and he wondered whether his sire was there now, sunning himself on the rocks like a seal. The thought brought a smile to his features, and he began to romp on the shore, snapping at bits of weed and snuffling up the sand lice that tickled his paws. It felt good to be home, and he was adamant he would enjoy every moment of it, from the cool breeze ruffling his ears to the whisper of the grass on the dunes.

It was, after all, a beautiful morning. The sun had not yet reached her zenith and the sky was a light eggshell blue that rose in a dome over Judas' head and out towards the horizon where it melted into the darker aqua of the ocean. The wolf reminded himself to meet up with his parents later that day, already imagining the beaming smile on his mother's face and the approving shine in the eyes of his father. Judas had changed a lot since he left a few moons before. He had filled out, no longer the lanky teenager he had once been. Beneath his thick pelt, muscles rippled and moved as though he were a part of the ocean itself. His long legs were ribbed with tendons and strength was etched into every part of his frame. He had filled his nomadic time hunting and training, sharpening his skill and honing his abilities so that he had been transformed into a force to be reckoned with. And he had done it all for Mana.

He pictured her beautiful black and white form sparkling in the sunlight, and had to smile. For the moment, she was an adorable mess, a young creature with all the vigor of a thousand others and his beloved pack-sister. However, beneath that deep affection lay a yearning, bright and heady and as of yet unearthed by the male, for the young she-wolf would have just gone one, and was way too young to enjoy the winter as the other wolves had. Judas, despite himself, had even made a half-hearted attempt at wooing, but that had failed dismally and he hadn't been too upset. In his heart he was saving himself for something – someone – although who that someone was he did not yet know. The black, white and russet male began to prance at the thought of seeing the impossible youngster again, and excitement bubbled in his paws. He was heading towards their secret meeting place, a small cave set into a cliff on the shore, back aways from the actual tide line and filled with interesting pools that teemed with life. It was covered during high tide, but at the moment it should still be visible as the sea sucked itself outwards and away. As he drew nearer, he hoped against hope that he would find Mana there, faithfully awaiting his return, still as fixated on him as he was on her.