«Across Salted Sea Foam»

@Raziel   And here..we...go. :P




There is a time in every wolf's life where a decision is made and it hurts. Usually it's a hurt that would benefit all who the hurt was caused for, but he didn't even know if the ones who he was hurting for were even still alive. So what was the point of hurting?
There wasn't any. 
So he didn't.

After leaving the ivory and cream fae he had tried to keep alive, but not attached to him, Cry pondered his predicament. So what, Summer was here. Winter would come, and who knows what other weather monstrosities would fly out to the sky next to murder everything. He wasn't gonna stick by and watch it kill him. 
Not him. This dark prince had better things to do, than dying.

Finally, after all the wandering through capsized lands and ruined territories alike, the midnight hessian found a recently marked border. Borders meant packs. Packs meant food. Safety. Work. Protection. 
Good. 
He dared not step over that line of life and death.

Crystalline orbs scanned the trees, the shrubs, anything that hinted life. However, it seemed even the forest held its breath, and waited for him to make a sound. 
Seems like that is usually the case, anyways.
Fine.

A melodious howl left his lips, soaring into the silent sky, and the ethereal ebony stayed standing, awaiting an answer.