Totoka River Go & Get Your Money Little Duffle Bag Boy

Leaving the Keep of Gyrfalcon as morning took place, Snow Owl drank at the river and then followed in into sparser territory, his paws greeted for the first time by sand. He was at first confused by the golden dirt, wondering at how easily his paws sank into it, and yet how firmly it supported his weight after shifting an inch or two. His shocked amazement turned to joy after a while, and he was dashing through the sand, like he had seen deer prancing through snow.

In his tumbling play, the sandy boy had forgotten all about the source of the salt-smell he'd been chasing the past two days or the distant roaring that had had his ears perked in eagerness. For now he just ran about, kicking up sand clouds, and tucking and rolling down small dunes like a fleeing desert-spider. He laughed, charging forward and cresting the final rise of warm dirt, before freezing entirely at the sight that lie before him.

Wide, fire-brown eyes took in the great amount of water that spanned as far as his eye could see and in either direction. The power and magnitude of the presently gentle waves, glimmering beautifully beneath a glaring sun, left Snowl (for once) without anything but a single word to say: "whoa."