The beach seemed to stretch on forever beneath a soft, overcast sky, where the sound of the waves blended gently with the steady rhythm of the sea. It wasn’t a busy place. There were no tourists, no voices, no distractions—only the constant motion of water touching sand and the distant calls of seabirds drifting through the air.
It was peaceful.

But something didn’t feel right.

Two dogs were walking along the damp shoreline, their paws pressing into the wet sand and leaving prints that the tide quickly erased. One was brown, the other black with tan markings. At first, they moved casually, following familiar scents and the natural rhythm of the coast, unbothered by anything around them.

Then, suddenly, both stopped at the same moment.

Ahead, near the edge of the water, something large lay stranded.

A dolphin.

Its body was slightly tilted, partly tangled in wet seaweed, its skin dulled by sand and exposure to the air. It wasn’t moving normally. With every wave, the ocean reached for it—but never enough to pull it back in.
The dogs stood still, instantly alert.

Something about the scene held their attention.
They didn’t rush forward.
They observed first.
They sensed that something was wrong.
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