running down to the riptide.

[size=x-small]ooc: @Ragnar :) not my best, but just wanted to get this going before I head off to work![/size]

Surra had overheard rumors about this new territory Ragnar had discovered. At first he was a little resistant to the idea of moving - change was not the steady young male's favorite thing in the world, but the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. The death of Pump had really shaken up the pack, especially since it had been at the paws of a bear. Apparently this bear was not new to the territory, but it's bad intentions were - and with still-young pups to worry about, he completely understood Ragnar's motive to move. Plus, Surra had heard a little about the island pack. Though he was concerned that it would seem as if the wolves of the ridge were running from a nearby pack rather than defend their territory, Surra also knew that losing more lives to a pack war would do them no good.

But, still, Surra wanted to see where they would be going. He spent the morning, starting pre-dawn, trotting down the coast, feeling the sand beneath his paws and listening to the waves.

By midday, the grey-brown male was approaching a massive cliff jutting out into the ocean. He could faintly smell Ridge wolves as their paths converged heading through an arch that holed out a path through the middle of the cliff face. As he passed beneath it, his calm blue eyes studied the rock - and he felt a slight chill run down his spine in awe of it. He had always been very aware of the beauty and power in nature, and instantly began to love this new place - the cliffs that framed it, the beach rising into grass plains into forests that climbed up the sides of hills, eventually meeting the height of the cliffs as they curled back inland. Just on the other side of the arch, Surra stood, his eyes slowly roaming across the land, taking it all in for the first time.