Blackwater Islands birds and stars

This place was bleak and unforgiving, but the power of the Mothers was made apparent in the way the sea churned with unrest. She sprawled, both angry and eternal. Her power slowly carved away the stone of the island on which they had come to rest, etching jagged cliffs at the island's side. Where the cliffs ended, there were beaches -- but they were wrought with stone and refuse coughed up from the ocean's embrace.

Whip avoided the cliffs and was naturally drawn to the beaches, for they were the most hospitible place in this unforgiving landscape. There, he found sustance. However, it was up to both the Mother's and fate as to wether the sea would provide. More often than naught, Whip found that the sea offered him nothing. The Mothers found him unworthy.

But today, a glut of carrion had washed upon the shore. A few scattered fish lined the beach. And Whip, having seen them from the high ground, took to the beach to feed.