Dragoncrest Cliffs Every face along the boulevard is a dreamer just like you
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#1
All Welcome 
Somewhere around midday, Ephraim located the tunnel at the back of Hougeda and stole away from the pack. He didn't know if he was supposed to go down here alone (someone had probably seen him anyway), but it was in his nature to wander in his solitary way, so he did. The darkness enveloped him and reminded him of his birth home, spurring him on until he emerged on the edge of the world, with the sea stretching in all directions. It wasn't the grotto and it wasn't Ankyra Sound, but little Ephraim's heart soared at the familiar sight anyway.

He stepped down onto the damp sand, exposed by the low tide, and glance along the walkway that led to some private cove along the cliffs that he couldn't see. He was content to remain right here for now, though, peering out at the waves as they lapped at the shore. His heart thumped heavily in his chest as his earliest memories played in his mind, and a faint smile pulled his lips upward as a gull wheeled overhead and screeched. "Home," the boy mumbled as he flopped down into the cool sand and dug his forepaws in.

It wasn't the place he was born but so long as Drageda had a stretch of coast like this that he could retreat to when most homesick, Ephraim could forget Ankyra Sound entirely and allow himself to be comfortable here, where he now belonged.
[time & tide]
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When he had stopped by hougeda to check in and catch up for the morning so far, he saw from the periphery Étoille's newest ward slipping away towards the tunnel down and to the sea. At first, he let him go, but a sizable enough interest find out more about the boy urged him up to his paws to follow after him.

With his own pups his most important focus, the coywolf had practically slipped beneath his radar. At best, he knew him by scent, and through Dalia only barely. As for himself, impressions were yet to truly take shape--and the boy was young still. He wondered where he may come to stand among them in time. The guardian roved down the familiar hall, then ducked low to cross the last threshold withholding him from sight of the sea. He found the little stranger as well at hardly more than a glance.

When the sea was relatively calm, this was a far gentler space. His last visit and it had been stormy, roiling.. and angry. Not today, however. He breathed deep, and enjoyed too "Hei," he called out with a low whuff, then began to slowly stride over the sands with curious intent and a relaxed posture. 
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For a time he was alone with the rush of the ocean and his thoughts. He pressed his paws forward in the sand until his thin forearms were covered in it, and allowed his ears to drift back on his head. Relaxation found him there, but it wasn't to last long. A telltale crunch of grains below paw pads announced Dio before his greeting did, and Ephraim cast his little head back to watch the Wocha's approach.

The man was golden, broad in the shoulder but narrow in the waist. He reminded Ephraim a little of another wolf in the pack, but maybe only because their eyes were the same mismatched orange and blue. That was where Ephraim's champagne gaze lingered, just long enough for interest but not enough to cause offense. "Hey," he returned, once again misinterpreting Drageda's strange language for his own. He turned his head back out to sea and sighed softly.

"It's like home here," he shared, rising slowly on his narrow limbs until he was sitting rather than laying. Something about Dio commanded more respect than just lounging about. "Why are your eyes like that?" he wondered tangentially, giving the golden-hued man another once over.
[time & tide]
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When he was seemingly accepted as company with ease, he picked a spot a few short lengths away to sit himself down. He was afforded a good look at just how young the boy looked. Home, and here, then he couldn't help a short nod. "Really? That's nice--if a reminder of home is good to you." Hard to say. Some homes of his he had missed. Others far less. "It isn't quite like anywhere I had lived before," he said. Once, near the sea--a valley and a hill over. Never so intimately beside it, almost constantly, here on these cliffs.

As for his eyes, it wasn't anything he had not heard before. "I don't know, they have been for as long as I can remember." And as Artaax evidenced, were heritable enough that perhaps his own sire had passed them down. He did not have an answer so simple; he had never seen the wolf, of course.  "Probably for the same reason yours are like they are." Whatever pattern out there decided it--it just was. "They work just fine though," he blinked them Ephraim's way.
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"Yeah," Ephraim agreed, letting his ears drift back as he gazed out to the gentle sea. "Is good. I like home. There was a burr, though, so home's not safe no more. Had to run away." They'd ran and ran, and then Ephraim ran some more, and he'd ended up here with Étoille. It wasn't the worst that could have happened to him; in fact, he rather liked Drageda and all the wolves in it. Even Kiwi, who looked down on him, he felt.

Dio explained how he didn't know the cause of his multicoloured eyes, and Ephraim squinted at him, but then rolled his thin little shoulders and said, "okay. I like 'em." As for Ephraim, he didn't have a clue what his eyes looked like. Maybe they were two different colours, too. He imagined they were like his mother's, bright yellow and sharp. He was wrong, of course, but he liked to think it. "Mine, too!" he chirruped unhelpfully, slapping the ground with the tip of his tail, but then he looked back to the water and saw something peculiar, and his figure went rigid.

There where the water met the sand sat a slimy lump of something, a misshapen and flattened dome with a hole in the side and a bunch of weird protrusions covered in, as best he could tell, circular warts. What looked like little eyes sat at the highest point of the dome. It was the colour of the chunks of coral he sometimes found in Ankyra Sound, but it was a lot softer looking, and seemed to melt wetly into the ground. Ephraim's ears pressed forward but his nape prickled; it was a disturbing sight, like some monster from a dream, but the ocean had spat it out. He whipped his gaze back over to Dio and asked, "whassat?"