The sea, we meet again at last

Ula was excited by the smell of the sea. She had not been in the sea for a while and for a polar bear swimming was a necessity. She hurried down the path with her lethal claws gripping the ground for traction and balance. Ula practically worshipped the sea, as well as the ice, and all water that existed. Once her paws met warm sand, she gazed at the sea just waiting for her to jump in. Memories came flooding back about how the kingdom she left, the kingdom she was forced to leave. Ula ran and dived right into the water. She swam and went deep underneath the water. Once underwater she appreciated how beautiful and magical the environment was. She went back to the surface floating in peace. She took this time to pray to her gods for leading her to this bountiful sea in which she could relax. Yes, nothing was better than swimming underwater. Ula looked at the sky knowing that the gods would guide her in her adventure in Canis. As a polar bear, swimming in the sea was one of the perks of her kind. She was proud of her species, and that was that.
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On the muddy expanse of the beach, a beast stirred. He was not the largest of his kind, but that was hardly noticeable to anyone else.

The Medium King rolled in his slumber, sand lightening the darkness of his hide. He cracked one red eye open: something had encroached upon his section of the beach.

He reared up with a bellow, enormous blubbery body rippling as he charged a few paces towards where the Interloper swam. Still, he stopped a good distance away. He was only the Middle King. Without brothers Big and Small, he knew subconsciously that he would accomplish little here. That did not upset him. Medium King was not aware of his mediocrity.
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The Big King was dozing, enjoying the sun. The seal ladies seemed to be taking their sweet time getting to the beach this year, but that was alright. He was the Big King. He could wait.

His brother-king’s baleful honk roused Big King from his slumber. Heaving mightily, the Big King inchwormed his way over towards the water. The Medium King was bellowing at someone, and Big King wanted to know who. Selfishly, he rather hoped for a whole flotilla of females.

But there were no kings nor queens in the water. It was a white thing, splashing around a ways from shore.

“You are not a king,” the Big King rumbled, “Of any size.”

As the biggest, the Big King thought he ought to dispense wisdom where possible. He had an obligation to the smaller kings, who would one day be as big as he was, or even bigger.

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@crowloft @cosmic @Katie5
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Small King was, perhaps, the nosiest of all of the Kings. So when he heard not just one but two of his brethren braying from a distance, Small King maneuvered his way over to the other Kings by way of wobbling his body across the sand until he landed in the general area of kings Big and Medium.

"I was napping," he squanched haughtily, "and the splashing woke me up. What are we Kinging at?"
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