Lupo, the eldest wolf, lets his head rest on the warm sand, his chest heaving softly. Ash, lean and silver-furred, stretches his aching limbs, grinning up at the sky. Mira, the smallest, traces lazy circles in the sand with her paw, her eyelids drooping. "I can barely move," he sighs, voice slurred with exhaustion. "Worth it," Mira mumbles, a sleepy smile spreading across her muzzle.

Finn the Shark pauses near their circle, his presence looming yet calm. "Back for more, Finn?" Lupo jokes weakly, though his tone is gentle rather than wary. "Just making sure my surf buddies are alright," Finn replies, his voice deep and smooth.

"So, have you changed your mind about eating us?" Ash asks, his tone forced light, but his tail gives a nervous twitch. "No," Finn responds after a thoughtful pause, shaking his head slowly. His fin catches the last rays of sunlight, casting a crescent shadow over the sand.

"Thank you," Mira whispers, her voice barely audible. "It was a great last day," Lupo adds, his words sincere, tinged with a bittersweet warmth. "No regrets," Ash murmurs, closing his eyes.

The surfboards lie abandoned, still glistening with droplets of seawater, as the soft hush of the tides resumes. Finn lingers for a moment, silent and unmoving, before slipping back into the ocean’s embrace. The beach is left empty but for the traces of paws and boards, the memory of a final day etched into the sand.