Cerulean Cape blow a kiss at the methane skies

It is the storm that brings the broken creature in toward the land, spitting the feeble form ruthlessly onto the sands alongside driftwood and discarded ocean matter. The ocean rages against the shoreline, incited by the shrieking of the sky as snow pelts the Earth, and its haphazard blows slowly push the figure further onto the stretch of sand. The wolf stirs faintly under the onslaught. She is a broken thing, an indistinct mess of tattered sandy fur and raw open wounds stretched over a too-thin frame, only barely recognizable as a wolf. Yet somehow, she lives. A weak cough bubbles out of the shattered girl every few moments, forcing water from her in tiny amounts. Her body struggles against the trauma threatening to overwhelm it entirely, but the effort is too little. That she'd survived the journey here at all is a miracle — now, her broken body has finally reached its limit, and her luck seems to have run thin. The life fades from her quickly as the storm rages around her, sapped by her wounds and by the crippling cold. RIP Branwen ok I'm done with this post bye.

His decision to leave Drageda haunted him as he made his way down the coast, but no matter how painful it was, he knew he couldn't go back. He used to be so sure of his purpose, but lately he had started to feel like an imposter in his own life--constantly asking himself what he was even doing here. Something needed to change, and he felt like nothing ever would if he stayed there doing the same things over and over. Home was too painful to return to, so after deserting the cliffs, he had just followed the ocean, hoping maybe he would find the answers to his questions somewhere.

Answers were the opposite of what he found, though. The icy breeze stung as it whipped against his face and ears, and it seemed like he could feel each howling gust all the way down to his bones. It soon became apparent that he would need to find somewhere to ride out the storm, and he was searching for a temporary shelter as the oddly-shaped heap near the water caught his attention. East froze, his eyes fixed on the area as he tried to figure out what exactly he was seeing. The mound moved then, but just barely as the sound of a small, gurgling cough reached his ears. The pieces fell into place then, and he launched himself forward towards what he just realized was another wolf.

He thought she looked like she was already dead as he finally came upon her soaking form. He may have believed that she actually was if another weak cough hadn't forced a harsh movement from her chest. She was painfully thin and the smell of blood drifted up from her wounds to mix with the salty sea air as he lowered his nose to inspect her scent. There was something about it that he couldn't quite place, but he had no time to mull it over right now. It was clear he needed to find somewhere for them to go; she was soaked, and the snow gathering in her already drenched coat was the last thing she needed right now. His anxious gaze hurriedly searched around them for anything that could be helpful. His searching stopped suddenly as he noticed a small opening in the rocky ledge on the opposite side of the cape. He looked back to woman, wondering if she could even stand. He released a low whine. Are you able to get up? he asked, looking her over worriedly, half expecting her to not even be able to answer his question.