Ankyra Sound You're in my wheelhouse and I can't wait to give the order

Maybe Bigwig? :D

Sunhawk learned two lessons that day he fell from the cliff:

A. Always finish your meal, otherwise you'll think of it during your death plummet
B. Life at sea was not as idyllic as they made it sound in the movies

He had hit the water like a rock. For all purposes, the water's surface felt like a rock. He had contusions in his eyes which made him look a handsome sort of deranged. He had one loose front tooth which poked out like an unruly section of downed fencing. He had a pair of broken ribs which hurt like a bitch, and he had cut his tongue, courtesy of his jaws slamming shut on impact. The sea was one hard, cold bitch according to Sunhawk. 

Goddarn it to hell. Sunhawk  would take a thousand broken legs and a baker's dozen of broken ribs, but don't take his ability to talk away from him! It was his most interesting feature!

@Umbra had been present when he woke, but given his current state of affairs he was in no position to be keeping wolves company. Any time he moved he felt a spectacular rise of pain and subsequent drop of blood pressure. The first few times he had tried to stand up he had plumb fainted into the sand. Mostly, he dragged himself around like the world's most miserable rag-doll.

He had plenty of time to think in the days that followed. He wasn't a bitter sort, but Sunhawk hoped karma slapped those bitches cliffside with a massive two-by-four across the face. He'd take a tree falling on them as recompense, or even them falling down a cliff like he had. Call it cosmic or karmic justice, but he hoped wherever those fellows were they were under two tons of pine.

Now he realized his nubbins would never make it up @Revui's mountain. Definitely not in this state. Any time he moved he winced, for his ribs were sensitive little binches, who had their own agenda about how he could move, how he could breathe, how he could eat and sleep.. It made this whole "castaway" on a beach thing a drag, especially without many babes or booze. Well, one babe, Umbra.. but Sunhawk didn't think she would take any of his famous Sunny moves well. Not that he could perform, for another matter..

Sunhawk worked his swollen and cut tongue in and out of his mouth as he watched the seagulls. He was daydreaming about one of those fine fellows walking to his mouth, and it did him very fine, thankya.

Late, and vaaaaaaague.

It was not in his nature to flee from battle. It felt wrong. To do so burned him beyond his wounds; these wounds that bled freely as he blindly charged between the trees, swarmed by the rain. Skin numb, limbs an autonomic churning; he skids across loose leaves, smacks the mud hard, but doesn't hear it, doesn't feel it. The sound of the storming in his ears is like white noise.

There is only rage within him; he is a tumult. Revui knows the taste of blood through the minerality of the rain and it lingers along his gum line; he feels a loose tooth with a prod of his tongue, and cannot stop flicking it, not until he goes over a particularly irregular lump in the woods and it jams loose. Spits it out.

He follows the crashing of the white noise until it is booming like thunder in his head. As Revui finally sags against a tree trunk he is cognizant of how smooth it feels, how cold, and doesn't realize until he leans against its surface and it tips, that its long dead. A discarded thing wedged upon the sand bar.

All he can think about is the pale wolf among the trees—her teeth shining, her snarl etched in his mind with the sound of the storm in place of a voice. How did one girl manage to tear in to him like this --? Had he not learned from his time with the Nightwalkers--? Stupid. Weak. Pathetic.

A fucking mess.

The leviathan's breathing began to rasp and he finally had to stop, sinking in to the sand on the edge of the world—lungs filling with salty air and a familiar tang. A vague warmth that made him think of his mountain; of high, dry dust. Revui is staring at the nothingness that is the tide rolling in, pushing out, frothing as it reaches for him, and does do the simple thing and turn his thick skull. If he had, he'd see that the friend he'd been hunting for was alive and well—and only a few feet away.

Sunhawk was about to utter a colorful curse at the seagulls that flew around him (no doubt waiting for him to die, or whatevs) when he felt a drop in air pressure. A stormcloud  - The Stormcloud - was moving through. Never in his life had he been so happy to see Chief Bigvui.

He sprung up with a grin that instantly disappeared as pain roared down his side and forced him over with a gasp. Doubling over in the sand Sunhawk could only manage a hoarse "Bigvui.." After a few bouts of sharp pain that kicked him firmly in the ass, Sunhawk unfurled himself and gingerly inched closer to the Chief with his usual sunny grin. "Boy, you look like you got pushed from a cliff too." Translation: broh, you look like shit.

The two bros caught up, Sunhawk doing most of the talking as per usual.