It is with great care that Setka lowered himself to the beach. Once all three paws touched stable ground, Setka released the breath that he held onto. The man glanced back up the treacherous cliff, pondering only for a moment how he might climb back up. That is a bridge he would cross once he got to it, but it would be prudent of him not to wear himself out beachcombing.

Ruby eyes scanned the rocky beach. Dark sand molded beneath his feet as he approached the shore, taking care not to walk into the clutches of the water. Setka, well aware of his limitations, trusted not the cruel and powerful grip of the ocean. He is by no means well versed in the nature of the tides, but he knows that those lapping waves both give and take.

Hiking across the bluffs and peering into tidepools, Setka finds plenty of sea creatures, stranded until high tide. His mouth watered as he considered sampling the bounty until the movement of birds captured his eye. Ears pricked upward and the coywolf slowly made his way to the birds. Perhaps they would show him an unseen treasure.

The birds startled at the coywolf's approach. Setka could not blame the creatures for their nature, even if it did draw a disappointed sigh from his chest. Still, even if the birds had abandoned their place, it did not mean there was nothing of interesting. His nose lowered, Setka began investigate the rocks the bird gathered by.

He could only gasp at what he found.

A boy! A little boy!

The pup had closed eyes and a coat sodden from the sea spray. Setka drew close to the child, his heart pounding in his ears. A gentle nose probes the pup, stiffening at the tiniest rise and fall of its chest.

What are you doing here? Setka whispered as he bent over to pluck the pup from its stony crib. The boy was featherlight and cold within his jaws. Turning away from the water, Setka made towards the stones furthest inland. The child needed someplace warm and dry. Finding a broad stone that was not touched by the water, Setka hauled the both of them upwards, grunting with the effort.

Atop the stone he would put the boy to rest at his side, his tongue drawn in long strokes to try warm the babe.