Crimson’s lilac eyes scanned the island. He’d literally dropped out of the sky onto the beach. Where was his sister, Evergreen?
He smelled wolves and guessed that he was in the middle of a pack. Crimson’s pelt (weirdest thing ever) clouded over with guilt and worry. He could be killed. This was trespassing. And oh grapeness, he needed to find his sister. If he couldn’t locate her she might die.
Lovely predicament he was in. Crimson scanned the beach. She wasn’t here; he couldn’t smell or see her, so she was likely on the far-distant mainland.
Shoot.
He took a deep breath. Here goes nothing. Crimson walked along the sand. Sister not there, or there. Rats. She probably wasn’t even on this island. The island that was home to a pack.

“Words are very unnecessary!”