Cold breeze of brine sprayed onto the rocks. Beyond the shore, upon an onyx throne of stone, Teemu lay. His feet had wandered, strolled, and ran across this new world, but the thunder of the ocean held his heart in its grip, and so, upon an arrival to a blackened beach, he once again felt home. It was the jagged outline of an island within swimming distance that had lured Teemu into the sea and into the grasp of the sepulcher. The land was vicious and unforgiving, the thick shroud of mist a whisper of secrets that Teemu longed to seek out.
The isle sparked a wildness in him he’d not felt in many months. Freedom. Survival. Life. No master to serve, no games to play. Only himself and the world beneath his feet.
Eyes slits as he rested, somewhere between wake and sleep, a dreamless state. Belly filled with clams dug from the gritted earth before sunset. A meal he had not enjoyed since his arrival to Mythris, but one that brought much comfort to his soul.
Waves crashed. Tide in, tide out. Waves crashed.
Steady, steady rhythm.
The wolf startled awake, senses firing rapidly as if something had pulled him purposely from the edge of slumber. Heart hammered against ribs. He blinked, gaze focusing along the lapping tide. A silhouette in the distance. A seal, perhaps. Sealife beached upon the rocks. Night and mist wrapped the figure in a hazy shadow, veiling its identity.
Teemu stood and stretched. He would not let a meal go to waste if the ocean had washed meat upon the land for him. Long legs descended from the perch, tracing a path through the serrated stones. As the mist weakened with the decrease in proximity, the silhouette began to take form. Canine. He paused with surprise, watching the figure’s chest for any sign of movement; breath, life. Warily, his feet ate up the remaining space between the two until the male stood, hovering over the wolf. Brows pulled into concern.
He gently nudged their shoulder. Body unbloated and malleable. Not dead - at least not yet.
The isle sparked a wildness in him he’d not felt in many months. Freedom. Survival. Life. No master to serve, no games to play. Only himself and the world beneath his feet.
Eyes slits as he rested, somewhere between wake and sleep, a dreamless state. Belly filled with clams dug from the gritted earth before sunset. A meal he had not enjoyed since his arrival to Mythris, but one that brought much comfort to his soul.
Waves crashed. Tide in, tide out. Waves crashed.
Steady, steady rhythm.
The wolf startled awake, senses firing rapidly as if something had pulled him purposely from the edge of slumber. Heart hammered against ribs. He blinked, gaze focusing along the lapping tide. A silhouette in the distance. A seal, perhaps. Sealife beached upon the rocks. Night and mist wrapped the figure in a hazy shadow, veiling its identity.
Teemu stood and stretched. He would not let a meal go to waste if the ocean had washed meat upon the land for him. Long legs descended from the perch, tracing a path through the serrated stones. As the mist weakened with the decrease in proximity, the silhouette began to take form. Canine. He paused with surprise, watching the figure’s chest for any sign of movement; breath, life. Warily, his feet ate up the remaining space between the two until the male stood, hovering over the wolf. Brows pulled into concern.
Hello? Are you alright?
He gently nudged their shoulder. Body unbloated and malleable. Not dead - at least not yet.
Hey,He barked out, voice gruff,
Hello!