Stavanger Bay dr jeykll
Swiftcurrent Creek
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#1
All Welcome 
hunger cramped lestan's belly when he finally arrived at the bay where saltshore had tried to find its beginning. "blossom?" rasped voice cracked by seawaves and exposure, but of course she wasn't there.
dazed, lestan wandered in and out of the terrain, too disoriented to hunt or forage, his voice breaking finally into noiselessness.
this was the final place they had been — they had been whole.
he collapsed in the sand and fell asleep immediately, overwhelmed by the lovely sight of the vast, empty bay.
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#2
why hello there

He ran a fool's errand, returning here.

The sea looked no different than when he had left his brother upon its shores, still stretching endlessly, on and on. He wondered if Everett had found peace out here. Wondered if he'd find a place to rest. Wondered if he'd managed to start over new, like he'd hoped to do. 

Wondered if he'd ever find him.

Evander had walked for days without seeing a soul here, though time to time he came across another's path, stale by the time he reached it.

Funny, to find someone now. He'd thought the man a rock from afar. The sea had covered over any distinctions of scent. But now that was he was close enough to see the rise and fall of the other's chest -

He should let sleeping dogs lie. Instead, he lingered, and wondered what had brought a wolf to such desperation as to fall asleep on the sand. Was he even alive? Maybe the sea had washed him up.

After a minute, Evander reached out a paw and gave the man a good prod. Hey, you alive there, buddy?

What was the worst that could happen? A bite to his face? Nothing he couldn't dance away.
Swiftcurrent Creek
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#3
in chemical dreams, a great golden bird had chased lestan, bearing down upon him from the hot air, closer and closer until he could see its huge glittering eye and outstretched talons of fire. over and over they had pierced the mayfair, turning his blood, his heart, his very breath to flame.
over and over, he had woken crying out.
lestan's opening pupil located the strands of gold; his body twisted up in the sand and he plodded away from the other, the name of his daughter echoed beneath his muttering breath as the memory of those dreams scraped his mind.
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#4
Ah, shoot. Definitely not okay.

The dancer spun after him on gilded paws, ears tall, hoping to catch a semblance of a word in anything the stranger was saying -

But nah, it just sounded like he was taking about flowers.

Evander had seen something like this in the Gilded Sea - but he didn't longer long on the memory of that. It was buried so deep he only had the feeling left. Unease, and the want to at least try and help, even while keeping himself a safe distance away.

It's chill, man, Evander said, picking his way across the sand alongside him, but there aren't any flowers here. Bet the forest has plenty.

He gestured up, away from the sea; he himself had put himself between the stranger and the endless waters. Right now, he thought, he'd do something good just by getting the man away from the ocean. Last thing he needed was to have the guy fall in and drown.
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#5
the stranger continued to ramble. lestan was beyond hearing, however, eyes fixed on the pinnacled treetops which marked the beginning of the sentinels.
and the voice which came now called him witch. eyes narrowing toward nothing visible, lestan veered away from the saltwater.
ears tipping toward the whispered voice, lestan forced himself in haunted steps away from the bay, tearing within as he left behind the final place of completion.
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#6
The man stole away from the sea; though he said nothing, the craze of his eyes confirmed Evander's suspicions. The guy was a loon, and probably a danger to himself. He'd done nothing to snap at Evander, though, so he doubted he'd be much harm to anyone else. 

The Medeiros thought of leaving the stranger the moment he shot towards the woods, but he clipped alongside the man at an easy lope to ensure he reached the safety of the trees.
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#7
their shadows cast across the traveling wolves. lestan, who could think of nothing else to say, turned his honeyblue eyes on the stranger in apology.
he wished to say thank you!
but his mouth would not work; lestan turned back to the shadows and raced among their shade until he was half-hidden and more alone to work the sob from his throat.
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