Barrow Fields the lark in the morning

The time had come.

As much as he loved the boons the shores had to offer, it seemed the ones who knew its darkest secrets were scattered in the wind. If he were to find out the source of all those treasures that girlie had mentioned, he'd need to find them. Unfortunately his routes could only lead in one direction - inland. That is, of course, unless those buggers had somehow learned the fucking swim. Gods that'd be the day.

The further inland he traveled the chillier he found himself, as though someone were blowing against ice beside him. The sun did its part in keeping him warm, though the fog did its best to counteract it all. With a small twist in his otherwise quirky grin, Khan proceeded on his way, admiring the passing autumn beauties as much as a life-long traveler could. After all, it was typically the people that made exploring interesting, not necessarily their surroundings.

The twitter of a bird caught his ears' attention, perking up and steering him off course as he wound around a small mounded hillside. The feel of soil beneath his paws was a welcome change from the loose sands along the shore, but it brought with it new territorial pawns. Birds, prey, predator, which one would be behind curtain number three?

Eyes settled on the small dear, watching her as the bird flew off and left her all alone. Oh, a shame. "Th' hell that there bird done to piss y'off?" An easy chuckle as he slurred his words out with a drawl, his legs easing himself closer with a casual trot. Teeth flashed in that cheshire grin of his as he came near, his gaze eyeing up and down, sizing her up. "Lookin' t'see which one o'ya could fluff up th'most?" 'Cause dearie that bird ain't got nothing on you.

Insert wink here.

@Kestrel