Shimmering Sands "it's calm before the storm, winslow."

It felt good to share something that wasn’t pulled from the sea, riddled in that fishy smell and taste. As Knaven and Lionel filled their bellies, the druid could not help but think that it would help them grow thicker for winter. The air near the water had already changed; he could feel the chilly nip on each breeze as they’d passed from one territory to the next.
 
Drawing his tongue across his lips, the earthy beast pulled his head from the kill and stared at the stag across from him. “You think we ought to claim somewhere in here? The Sentinels?” Knaven asked, knowing that it was a question loaded with subtext. It had been so long since their family had been in the forest, and the young druid knew well enough that the fire damage had been extensive. Surely some of it had grown back.