It’s a scorching afternoon at the beach bar, and you're racing around, trying to keep up with the orders pouring in. The sun glistens off the sand, and the chatter of customers fills the air. You're making drinks as fast as you can when you spot Talon, the familiar white-furred wolf with his surfboard tucked under one arm, walking up to the bar. His fur is still damp from the ocean, and his usual easy-going smile greets you.

"Hey, can I grab a cold one? Whatever’s fastest," he says, leaning on the counter with a relaxed grin, glancing around at the bustling scene. The bar is packed, but Talon doesn’t seem to mind.