Jowls...
The sharkcass was nearly forty feet long rotting in the open sun of the beach it's great jaws still clamped around the unfortunate shell of the massive sea turtle that had towed it through the shallows and onto shore. The gulls flocked around it, picking strips of flesh and blubber from a gaping hole in its side where the sheriff had shot it, blasting even more chum into the bloodstained water. If not for the timely arrival of the turtle pod he would have probably died there too. But as they say, slow and steady.
His arms were still aching from wrestling to stay above the red brine of the waves clutching the side of the ship that the shark had smashed to bits before a few explosives and giant turtle had made a sharkcass of him. Under his feet the beach reeled and he dropped to his news and heaved some sea water back into the sand. There wasn't much else there to tamper the burning salty bile, but the land was under him once again. That, and he'd done his job. The beach was safe.
His arms were still aching from wrestling to stay above the red brine of the waves clutching the side of the ship that the shark had smashed to bits before a few explosives and giant turtle had made a sharkcass of him. Under his feet the beach reeled and he dropped to his news and heaved some sea water back into the sand. There wasn't much else there to tamper the burning salty bile, but the land was under him once again. That, and he'd done his job. The beach was safe.