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Rune · 6/26/2026, 12:26 PM

A head injury? Rune would tilt the very head in question, her eyes suspicious as she pondered the thought. Perhaps she had sustained trauma — that would explain the lapse in her memory. But she was certain there was something more to it than that … call it a feeling, but she suspected her memory had been stolen by something — or someone.

But that problem would have to wait.

The stranger was approaching her. Rune would shift upward, demonstrating her height and pressing her ears toward him as she warily regarded his approach. The edges of her hackles would stand, but she remained otherwise passive — she was far bigger than him, even if weakened by the ocean. And she would put up a hell of a fight.

In fact, she was much bigger than him.

Wait. Was he getting smaller?

Rune’s head tilted as she watched him slide into some sort of sandy trap, the hungry waves of the ocean waves dancing with delight as the tide swelled. And it seemed even more delighted with the stranger’s frantic paddling, drawing him deeper into the hungry belly of the shore as he muttered mindlessly.

Rune stood up, taking a few careful steps forward. Hættu, she’d start, before correcting herself back to common, Stop flailing. It was a statement more than a demand, but if he wanted not to drown, perhaps he would heed her advice. Roll toward me, she would continue, edging as close as she could to the soft sand and stretching her neck to test her reach.

No flailing, she reminded him, stern but somehow soft. Just roll.

Her jaws would reach toward him, snapping at the air and attempting to grab his scruff and lift the smaller man right out of the sand trap. She felt her muscles ache, her paws sliding slightly against the soft sand as the rescuee tried to become the rescuer.

Welcome Back!

Greetings Stranger!

Coral Shores

the merciful valkyrie