Ankyra Sound crime is a wicked judgement

home.

not home, not the same shore that was the birthright of the cairns ...but close enough. at least until he is rested enough to continue down the distantly familiar landscape of the coast until her reached the bay.

stavanger bay —

that was his goal. but his paws were sore and his belly ached from the lack of food. he munches on seaweed spit from the sea in the frothy swells and though it does not entirely sate him it curbs the worst of the hunger pangs.

that he has not taken the best care of himself during his travels was out of his sheer ( if not misplaced ) determination to rekindle what he set aside for some time.

he seeks shelter in the sound's grotto, winding his way towards its heart, following the tunnels that were not collapsed. here, he would take shelter though with any luck, rest and some decent food beyond seaweed, it would only be temporary.