Blackbeak Bluff All I desire... is silence and indifference...

For @Maegi! This turned into an essay, sorry! He has a lot to ponder and discover here.

His last few encounters in these wilds had been less than pleasant. Gundham realized he'd be better off just avoiding mortals, as none of them seemed capable of understanding him at all. Such encounters served no purpose but to exhaust and stress him. Clearly, he was better off on his own. Even worse, that mysterious prophet's words still rang in his skull, and how the man saw right through his persona rattled him to the core. He must have misinterpreted the prophecy, as there was no going back for the broken soul of Gundham Tanaka. He became this way because he had to; it was best that he shoved others away. He was... happy like this.

Alone.

Gundham came to a stop and sighed, staring at his feet. That was a lie and he knew it. He wasn't happy, but he couldn't change what he was: an outcast. Outcasts were destined to lead lonely lives, he supposed. The lone wolf picked up both his head and his feet, as brooding wouldn't get him anywhere. The salty scent of the sea was becoming stronger and stronger as he traveled. Never having been to the coast before, the ecologist was intrigued to see what creatures it had to offer. Engulfing himself in ecology was the only thing that kept him sane; it distracted him from these intrusive, pointless thoughts, and a distraction was what he really needed right now.

Soon, he could hear the crashing of waves against the coastline. Looking in its direction, Gundham drank in the sight of the ocean for the very first time. He stopped to fully take it in, and the sea breeze tousled his fur. The reach of this water was so incredibly vast, and he wondered where it ended. After a few moments absorbed in wonder, Gundham was on the move again, though he kept his gaze seaward.

Vibrant verdant grass gave way to grey, lifeless rock, and the land abruptly dropped off. Cautiously, he approached the edge and peered over it. A species of swallow he'd never seen before took residence on the cliffside. It must've been their breeding season, as the passerines occupied strange, tube-like nests with small openings, which their offspring poked their heads out of to be fed. He decided he'd call them cliff swallows; the name was self-explanatory.

Looking past them on the beaches below, he spotted creatures unlike any other he'd ever seen in his life. They were strangely rotund and gray in color, stubby forelimbs clearly unsuitable for movement on land. The creatures were mostly lazing about in great numbers on the sand. The ones that were moving around did so in a clumsy manner, dragging their bulbous bodies across the ground with their oddly flat legs. Gundham determined that they had to be primarily aquatic―even more so than beavers or otters. He'd love to see how they moved in their element.

The sky was starting to shift from cool to warm shades, signalling that the sun would set soon. The view was especially pleasant here, with nothing to obstruct the view of the sky and its reflection in the water. Gundham laid down with his belly on the cool stone, crossing his forelegs. He desired to experience what a sunset was like by the sea. Knowing now how serene the coast was, though, he suspected it was nothing short of magical.

The encounter with the woman had been pleasant enough, but it lent nothing of value to her search. Mou was still missing, and his scent trailed farther and farther from the island. Still, Maegi kept up her pursuit, determined not to let the boy slip away like she had so many others--Cicero, Ramsay, Euron. . . It was that guilt in the pit of her stomach that spurred her on, more than anything else.

The cliffs were precarious, and the girl stayed far from them, fearful of the plunge to the churning water below. The birds cried loudly overhead, and the air was suffused with salt and summer. Another lost soul was ahead, laying on the stone and staring out at the water. Maegi thought it was odd, how close he was to the edge. She came to a halt within crying distance and peered at him.

"What're you doing?" she called out, eyes narrowed in confusion. He was either brave or stupid (or both, she admitted begrudgingly). She didn't necessarily want to talk to him, especially if he was in the latter category, but he could have information on Mou's whereabouts.

When you followed a bread trail, every crumb counted--even the smaller, seemingly insignificant ones.

He'd been so absorbed in the coast's ambiance that he didn't notice the presence nearby until it spoke to him. "What're you doing?" The feminine voice asked. With a jolt, he whipped his head to behold a snow white wolfess. Gundham's attention was immediately drawn to the ghastly wound on her face, where her teeth were permanently bared to the world. Her eyes were mismatched like his, but one was a cool indigo, the other a heated orange. They matched the sundown sky above. She stood on only three grey legs, as one foreleg was twisted unnaturally and unusable. She was deformed and broken, yet beautiful in her own right like a damaged statue.

Oh, he'd been staring. Say something, fool! I-I'm just... enjoying the sunset, He finally answered in earnest, managing to keep his tone calm. Gundham hoped she wouldn't bother him too much, but it wasn't like he'd turn tail and run; he was just tired of every experience with canines being awkward and stressful ordeals.

She noticed his stare, his eyes lingering on the ruin of her face, and turned her head so that only the right side was visible to him--the unblemished cheek, the Melonii indigo eye. That one orb surveyed him coolly, taking in his stammered answer and drifting to the horizon. Ah, yes, the sunset. It painted the water a vibrant purple-crimson shade, the sky slowly fading into twilight.

"It's beautiful," Maegi agreed, padding a bit closer and settling back a ways and to the side, so that he caught none of her flaws from where he sat. She hoped he would not question her position or her wounds; she sometimes tired of wolves looking at her like she was some kind of disease. Especially when she was merely trying to be friendly.

"Who are you?" she inquired, looking at the sea, not him. Her voice was utterly casual, lazily spilling each syllable. His face was not familiar to her, nor was his scent. Maegi wondered if he was clued into the whereabouts of Mou. Likely not, but it was worth a try, anyway.

The wolfess didn't comment on his gawking, but she did shift her head out of clear discomfort. Gundham chided himself for being so socially inept, as his staring gave off the opposite message he wanted to convey. Unfortunately, he was far too diffident and awkward to dare utter a compliment. Thankfully, the girl brushed past it and simply commented on the sunset. When she gazed out to the sea, he did the same, wishing to avert his eyes.

His anxiety spiked when she neared him and settled down, as that meant a lengthy conversation was likely to come. Gundham forced himself to appear somewhat relaxed, contradictory as that idea was. When she asked who he was, he glanced back at her, but the wolfess' eyes were not upon him, so he returned his own back towards the water. The dominant part of him wanted to give a grandiose introduction like he always did, for he was a supreme being deserving of respect... right? However, Gundham just didn't have the energy for the judgement and the barrage of questions that always surfaced out of confusion.

No one knew who he was, and no one cared.

Gundham... Gundham Tanaka, The outcast murmured, eyes solemn as they stayed trained on the horizon, but they were no longer taking in its beauty.

He seemed morose, withdrawn. Maybe a more empathetic soul would try to dig into him, see if they could fix the hurt in his heart--but Maegi was no counselor, nor did she have any interest in the art. Everyone had their own demons to fight, and Maegi preferred to fight hers alone. Wouldn't he be the same? She gave a nod to his answer, still looking at the sea.

"I'm Maegi," she said quietly. Paused, thinking, and then added, "Maegi Melonii." After all, he had given a surname; she might as well offer one in return. It had been a long time since she'd labeled herself as such to a stranger, and saying it aloud sent a shiver through her.

Might as well cut to business. "I'm looking for a friend," she continued, finally turning her gaze toward Gundham again. Hoping he would meet her eyes--both to catch the sincerity in them, and so she could see the emotions flit over his own face, and try to ascertain whether he lied or spoke true. "Mou. He has only one eye, a white pelt with some gray and orange markings, and he can't talk very well. Have you seen him?"