Seaside Moors So I've gotten used to coffee sweats

The creature continued on his way, and even though he disliked the feeling of sand between his toes and the roaring of the ocean, things were calmer now and he wasn't going to pass up the opportunity to travel where no beast has gone before — at least, no beast from his tribe. If he could return home and tell them of his travels, that's what he'd love to do. Ve'kesh knew that was an impossibility but the sentiment carried him across the sand all the same. He pretended that he was visiting a far-away place of mystical importance. Maybe if he found the right stone, gathered the right number of shells, or bled on the right patch of sand then the spirits would be pleased enough to allow his return?

He was hopeful but it was an empty hope. Ve'kesh knew that he had been banished for the extent of his life; it was the tribe's style of forcing dispersal to individuals that had finished their schooling. The fact that he had been banished so young was actually good; the elders had not indoctrinated him to any specific role, not pledged his soul to any spirits before he could make that choice himself. The fact that his tutor had to die for that to happen wasn't sad, not to the creature anyways, who saw the death of the old shaman as a moment of personal ascension. He had not let that man go to waste either—he carried the shaman's wisdom with him and burned his body like fuel, forever ingraining his power in to Ve'kesh. The old man would always be with him now, and that was the real reason his tribe had tossed him out. They had no power now.

Such musings filled the beast's mind as he puttered along in the sand, with his head level with the scattered rocks and shells. He found few things that could serve any ritualistic purpose, at least until he came upon a few larger segments of rock jutting from the sand, exposed by the retreating sea. The rocks were slab-like and shining with a layer of sea water; above them were piles of weeds, stones, and feathers. As Ve'kesh began to root around in that pile of debris he thought he felt something pinch at his nose and his lips, so he withdrew and watched a few tiny crabs scuttle for cover.

With a huff, he gave up his brief exploration and shook the sand and wet grass from his face.