Shimmering Sands you're just an animal in a cage, no more than that, no better than that

winds tore violently across the sands, kicking up dust devils and carrying a splendid sea of shimmering gold across the beach with a wicked delight. the trees that were close enough to this portion of the sea were almost bent with the frustration of trying to hold themselves against the onslaught. the leaves had been stripped away. several of the older pieces of stock had been completely removed from the earth; their roots reached out with threatening claws – an omen to any who should pass beside them. just when it seemed that the winds carrying the storm would cease, their howls would sound against the lashed trunks and scattered boulders. it carried the sound of death on its back and seemed to have little reserve in its reminder of just how savage the hand of fate could be.
 
the ghost passed in the center of the beachfront. the waves that battered the shores had only threatened to topple him a small handful of times. he had not seemed to care whether he was swept away or left to continue his aimless voyage. the echo of the wind did not leave his mind. the sound of the howling seemed to cling to him. it was suckling away at whatever life force was left inside his thin and haggard frame. not even a man of two years, but he carried the weight of several lifetimes on his back, and there was no way to hide such a burden.
 
home was not a concept that felt at all familiar. there could be no home for a beast like him. even if there were, illidan did not know that he would recognize it. it had been three months since he had been removed from his position within the pack. three months since he had left the sound in search of his mother, or answers, or a reason to keep rising when morning would shine its pale light on him. ninety days, but the boy had found none of what he had sought. even cadeau had disappeared from his side, though he would hardly blame her. the young healer would not suffer out there, for she had enough warmth to share with any who came in contact with her. she was better without him.
 
the sea surged and forced a torrential wave onto the shore. it did not taper before meeting his frame, but instead threw him from his slow pace and tossed him like a ragdoll against the portion of the shore that turned to forest. he coughed, sputtering saline water and expelling it from the back of his throat. gagging and drenched, the lean ghost found shaky footing once more and turned his haunting gold gaze to the distant storm clouds. all those days that they had traveled alongside kierkegaard and caiaphas, and how weary he had watched them become. illidan had never understood the gravity of what that had done to his parents. he had never understood why his father had seemed so starved of substance, of soul. 
 
standing on the edge of the world – the wayfaring son, returned home – he believed that he finally knew just how his father had felt…
 
… and it was hell to know it.