Ravenshook Cliffs ...ready for it?

The air was sharp, it felt heavy with summer's growing humidity despite the late hour, and seemed to endlessly harass the surface of the sea as it coursed its way along. The waves boomed against the cliffside with an even tempo. Perhaps a storm was on its way - or something more volatile - but the stranger was oblivious.

He had found shelter in the dark. First, the cliff's rocky surface was pox-marked with many divots, small chasms, crevices, and assorted caves; these had been his shelter as he has rested through the daylight hours. Additionally to that, despite not eating much except what the gray wolf had found for him, he had discovered his energy level returning gradually.

He still found the body thirsting, starving, and weak - but there was something else. A certainty that this was not the end. A will to live, which the stranger found invigorating. With this in mind (and a strange desire to move, getting stir crazy perhaps), he waited until the light had almost entirely dimmed before ceeeping from his hiding place.

It was a quiet night - dark, moody, almost charming - and as the warm wind licked at the ragged body which he had stolen, he stared out at the blue-cast sea in silence.