Dragoncrest Cliffs Every face along the boulevard is a dreamer just like you

"Yeah," Ephraim agreed, letting his ears drift back as he gazed out to the gentle sea. "Is good. I like home. There was a burr, though, so home's not safe no more. Had to run away." They'd ran and ran, and then Ephraim ran some more, and he'd ended up here with Étoille. It wasn't the worst that could have happened to him; in fact, he rather liked Drageda and all the wolves in it. Even Kiwi, who looked down on him, he felt.

Dio explained how he didn't know the cause of his multicoloured eyes, and Ephraim squinted at him, but then rolled his thin little shoulders and said, "okay. I like 'em." As for Ephraim, he didn't have a clue what his eyes looked like. Maybe they were two different colours, too. He imagined they were like his mother's, bright yellow and sharp. He was wrong, of course, but he liked to think it. "Mine, too!" he chirruped unhelpfully, slapping the ground with the tip of his tail, but then he looked back to the water and saw something peculiar, and his figure went rigid.

There where the water met the sand sat a slimy lump of something, a misshapen and flattened dome with a hole in the side and a bunch of weird protrusions covered in, as best he could tell, circular warts. What looked like little eyes sat at the highest point of the dome. It was the colour of the chunks of coral he sometimes found in Ankyra Sound, but it was a lot softer looking, and seemed to melt wetly into the ground. Ephraim's ears pressed forward but his nape prickled; it was a disturbing sight, like some monster from a dream, but the ocean had spat it out. He whipped his gaze back over to Dio and asked, "whassat?"