Dragoncrest Cliffs last night i dreamed i was shot

his departure from the peak is rather swift; eager to put as much distance as possible between the scorched northern corner of land and his own scorched body. he pauses in the shade of the woodlands of the cliffs when he is clear and begins to methodically tug out the spiky bits of the thorny bushes with his teeth that tangled in his fur from his unceremonious stomping thru the tangle. grumbles of annoyance rumbling in his chest like the roil of thunder of a coming storm, partially because he has to tend to himself lest they get too tangled and pierce his flesh, partially at himself for the flashbacks that ravaged him in his waking hours as he stared at desolate and partially because he is forced to stare at the ugly, raised red flesh where the flames of hellfire laid their claim.

when his fur is clear of thorns he draws his tongue over the bone-ivory tendrils, soothing them back down so they are not so terribly mussed; turns a blind eye to the ugly scars of his left front leg currently in his view and keeps moving. geist pauses in his steps only when he reaches a fresh water source cutting through the small woodland, the gentle roar of the ocean in the distance causing his ears to twitch atop his skull as he takes a deep, long drink of the cool water, only slightly stagnant.