Totoka River now i stand, the lion before the lambs

Bajeera found the waters to his pleasing. Though the great spirits had spoken of an empire on the shores, he could not yet see such a thing existing on the granules that dug into his thick paws, leaving a string of tracks that led to the gentle lapping waves. The voices whispered to him and lured him toward the depths of the sea, but Bajeera did not listen to their call. He had many things to draw his concern, but the deep dark of the swell would not see the light of his gaze – not yet.
 
As Gul’Dan padded along the small spread of deltas that dabbled the coast, his gaze was trained on the darkness in the puddles. Above him there was a stretching expanse of sky that reached down and touched the earth in the form of the small pools, but the mystic did not dare to disturb them. Curiously, he craned his skull over the nearest one and the fel-green of his gaze was alight with fire. The voices purred to him and spoke of their favor for his being, but Bajeera drew his tongue swiftly along his whiskers before it was housed once more inside of his maw. Breathing deeply, the swift-footed feline drew the scent of the brine into his marrow and locked his eyes with the reflection in the water.
 
There were secrets to be found, but the Gul’Dan did not know where to turn to first. Should he venture to the west, he would be able to remain alongside the waters for a great duration of his trek. If he should turn to the east, he saw nothing but a looming cliff that overlooked the lapping waves. Perplexed, he began to call upon the mystics to breathe life into his journey and draw him closer to their intention.

a silver-splattered shadow fluttered high above the treetops for many nights. He was little, the old bat, but he saw no limit on his physical form. He was so much more than that, not just another shaman bat of a pointless bat clan, not just a flying rat. There was so much knowledge gathered in his tiny skull...

But it did pose a challenge being so little with such big ambitions. His journey had one purpose only, and had there been an easier way, the old mage would have taken the chance without hesitation. But sea salt was only found in the sea, and there was no sea in the darkness of Blackfeather Woods. "Bloody hell!" he'd cursed many times along the way, but aside from nap stops and feeding, Azul hadn't stopped a second to regret his decision. What he hoped to brew with it was of nobody's business but his, he needed that bloody sea salt, and he would travel back and forth a hundred times for it if what the crow wizard said was correct.

The sight of the blue-green of the ocean made him shriek in excitement, but as Azul neared the coast he caught a glimpse of an interesting figure, pure gold, and it's bright green eyes staring back at themselves in the water. Oh, those eyes! Surely the salt could wait a little bit longer if it meant Azul could scry on those green mystic eyes just once. So hypnotic they were that Azul forgot how to land, and his little body fell right into the water, splattering all around the golden cat in a desperate attempt to breathe.

A great fluttering turned the tufted ears atop his crown, and all at once the sky began to fall on top of him in the form of an inky creature with wings. Bajeera could not help but to bristle his fur at the sight of the bat; it had so unceremoniously plummeted from the air, right into the very pool he had been gazing into. The mystics were not speaking to him, he gathered with a frown. Having darted several feet away, the feline lowered his skull toward the earth and peered curiously upon the winged beast of the night. Stars littered the sky above and the other pools reflected this vision, but the delta where the ink demon had fallen was still rippling out of disturbance. The Gul’Dan drew his lips over pointed fangs and his brows knitted tightly over the electric green of his vision.
 
With a few steady steps back toward the water, the mystic eyed the creature a moment longer before speaking in his tongue. “Dae’mon, you have frightened Bajeera,” he hissed quietly at the fluttering mess of wings and ink. The lynx was familiar with the flighty creatures of the night, but never before had he found himself so close to the feathered sprites. The leathery limbs that seemed to stretch from his arms were an oddity and something to behold. Though the sprite had interrupted his commune with the mystics, the fel-eyed lynx had found himself incredibly curious.