The sea laps at the shore, sand rippled dark. The stars twinkled faintly, distant.
A shadow scuttled, snout pressed to the sand, snuffling loudly at intervals. Even in shadow it's not hard to mistake that long, conical snout.
Where the starlight hits it, it's coarse fur appears striped in the silver light. It's tail is thin, but furry, and while it scuttles on fours it has no problem pulling itself up on twos.
Dark eyes glint, it clicks its teeth, and races back the way it came.
No signs in Sunny Beach, but there was a faint scent, in an old eddy circling from elsewhere.
It hurried back to the Thieves den, with its report.
Spyro was sunning himself, paws crossed over in front of him. Closing his eyes, he gave a little rumble of contentment.
Sparx trilled his agreement, from between Spyro's wings; the sun was really nice, now that he could enjoy it.
His snout twitched.
Without opening his eyes, he said, "I don't think that's a good idea, Hunter."
"Aw man," the cheetah leapt up from the ground, stretching languidly, "how could you tell?"
"Wind." If Spyro had visible ears, Hunter is sure he would have flicked them. "My sense of smell is really good, and you keep coming from upwind."
"Exactly." They both startled somewhat as Elora appeared, plopping down onto the sand next to him. "Faun's are prey creatures, so we know to say downwind." She winked.
Hunter chuckled, and Spyro sneezed in agreement.
Wriggling a little to get more firmly into the warm sand, Spyro asked, "How's the professor?"
Elora rolled her eyes. "Same as usual - muttering nonsense that only makes sense to him, and covering the walls with calculations."
Hunter rubbed his brow, exasperated. "I should not have gotten him that chalk."
That got all three of them laughing - they were all fond of the Professor.
Conversation changes nature, to that of the beach itself. Spyro relates that it is vastly the same as his home, although the shells are different, and Hunter mentions that if you go deep enough there are creatures living the the sea.
Elora convinced them to get up and take a walk along the shore (Re: she yanks on Hunter's tail and threatens Spyro the same). The yellowed sand holds little save for white or purple shell fragments, and the odd sand crab they manage to scoop out of the tideline. Spyro laughs as it scuttles across his paws, and Hunter follows his namesake, digging furiously for them.
Elora gently deposits them back, and then gets the idea to use the sand from Hunter's digging to make a sand building.
It's a new game to Spyro, and one Hunter has not taken part in for a long, long time, so they all set about their tasks excitedly.
Since Spyro is not yet bipedal and cannot carry the sand, his is left responsible for digging while Hunter transports, and Elora races around for shells and scrub and other debris.
Spyro uncovers some shells and rocks, which he sets aside. It's repetitive, enjoyable work.
One of the rocks he finds - a pebble, really - he pauses on. It's an odd blue, light but foggy, and is much smoother than any of the rocks he has found thus far. He snuffles, breathing hard through his nostrils to brush off the sand.
"What did ya find?" Elora had come up, and she was leaning her paws on her knees, tilting her head. Hunter, seeing something going on and not wanting to miss a fun time, pads up.
"I 'unno," he says, tilting his head, pawing at it lightly with a claw. "A weird rock."
"Oh," Hunter blinks. "That's not a rock; it's seaglass."
"Seaglass?" Elora and Spyro say at the same time.
"Yeah!" He leans down and picks it up, opening his paw. It's easy to see against the black pads. "It's glass - from old broken stuff that falls into the sea, or sand under lotta pressure - and it gets rolled along by the waves until it's smooth. All that pressure and movement changes it."
With a smile he plops it down on top of Spyro's snout. "It's a cool find."
"Well," Spyro crosses his eyes to look at the seaglass, "what should we do with it?"
Elora shrugs. "It's yours, really. You can do what you want."
"Hmm. . ." He squints at it, and they try not to laugh at the face he's making.
"We could make it into something later," Hunter suggests.
"Yeah! Like jewelry of some sort? Something like a bracelet?" Elora clasps her paws.
Spyro flicks his tail, considering. He doesn't like the idea of anything around his paws or neck, but maybe. . .
"Well, can you put it in your pocket for now 'Lora? I wanna work on the sand castle!"
She opens her paw to except it as he leans forward to slide it off of his snout. "Of course! It's a castle now, though?" She laughs.
Hunter chortles. "Of course it is! Our own Sandy Castle! A new Homeworld! Now c'mon!"
He races off with another pawful of sand, Spyro and Elora racing after him.