Where once the southern border of Blossom Forest was made by Leisure Lake, the magical rearrangement of the lands has laid there instead a vast, uncrossable ocean. The shore differs as you travel along it. Tall mountainous cliffs arise on the western part and at one point, the large river that runs through Blossom Forest opens up at its tributary into a well sheltered cove. As you come more eastward, the towering peaks shorten into rocky foothills. A large section of the shore is inaccessible to most, as Uyaraut has claimed it as their own. But if you skirt around their territory, the hills disappear, swallowed up into the land until it is as flat as the eye can see. The vibrant greens dull into short and dry browns and tans, and the land dries and cracks apart until it melds into The Waste - the desert that forms Blossom Forest’s easternmost border.

For those looking to hunt here, there are of course the fish within the ocean, along with crabs, seals and urchins. For on the shore, there are seagulls, herons, and ospreys.

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Tiresias had been glad when Castiel had agreed to stay with him - it wasn’t that he could not survive on his own, or that he needed the company. He had survived all of this time without either of those - ever since his foster mother Eerie had left him, he had called the lake and its shore his home… That is until the will of the gods had changed it from a lake into a vast and terrifying ocean. Tiresias could not even fathom its size… Considering that he was blind and all. But he had been sightless since birth, and so it did not bother him in the slightest. In fact, him gaining his sight would likely bother him more - the colors and detail would overwhelm him. What had, was the lack of friends, the lack of company, the lack of conversation. He had always been social, having the members of his father‘s pack to talk with, play with… But after the war… After his mother died… That all had changed. And so he had lost his company, his intelligent conversation. And intelligent he was - it was something that he had inherited from both his mother and his father, but if he had to pick one, he most definitely took after his mother with her wits. Just like many of his breed, he was a master manipulator. But unlike all of them, he did not like to do so… Instead he only pushed lies on to others when it was necessary for his survival. Because his mother had wanted him to be better than she had been, than their people were, she had instilled within him a strict moral sense of right and wrong. He had none of the misgivings against other breeds, he believed that murder was wrong… But he also held common sense unheard of for his age. Anything that had happened was already done, it had to be let go of. The past could not be affected or manipulated… Only the present and the future could be. And so it was these things that he missed. Perhaps it was because they reminded him of his past, and because of that very ideology of thinking -that he could not affect anything that had already come to bear - he wished to regain it in the future. Regain friends, family, companions... Castiel was the first step in that direction - fate had brought them together twice already, and they were to be good friends, or at least Tiresias hoped so.

But he also would not rely upon the other brute. He had lived so long by himself that he had a strict sense of independence. He would not let himself get caught up with Castiel - he needed to push past his own boundaries and his fears and find others that he could trust somehow. And it would be risky for him - the warriors of the Faraway clan were looking for him, either to kill him or in order to force him to claim the throne. And though he had been able to tell that Kijika was a kalak, because he had a similar scent to that of his parents, he could not rely on that. Tiresias knew that they were many different clans, and within each clan there were many packs. They would not all smell the same, and it would not just be the wolves from his own pack looking for him - they would want him to return, to lead. Just about every other pack would want his throne, his land. Who knew what would eventually come his way, or rather, who would eventually come his way. Tiresias felt better, knowing that he was within shouting distance of Castiel… But the only way he would call for him was in the most dire situations. That is why he had left the den, and asked Castiel not to come with him.

Tiresias had started walking the shore, his long limbs making it easy to cover ground. It was easy to cover ground here for him - he knew the territory, the lay of the land. He knew where the rocks shifted more, where he had to keep his balance, and had even gotten a hold on when the tides would come. All there was to do now is find another wolf - anyone except Kijika. The winter air swirled angrily around him, pushing and pulling his long hair in a vicious whirlwind. Unconsciously, Tiresias moved another foot from the ocean, and then another. He had no desire to be chilled by the spray of ocean mist, not when it was this chilly out. As it was, he was surprised that no snow had fallen upon this shore yet - he had tasted the threat of storms upon the air this morning, but so far no precipitation had fallen. Not that he could ever get lost in a snowstorm, not out here. He didn’t rely on structures to let him know how far he was from something, unlike most wolves since they were sighted… No, he counted his steps everywhere he went.

And then there it was - a strong scent upon the air, another brute. It was not Kijika, and Tiresias let loose a sigh of relief. His nares flared as he tried to learn more about the other… All he knew, was that he did not have the same perfume as that of his family. It did not mean he was not a kalak, but it didn’t mean that he was either. Tiresias painted a smile upon his face and stopped, lowering his rump to the rocky silt of the shore. A slow steady wave sent his plume from side to side - he wanted to show the other that he meant no harm. But while he made his body look relaxed, both of his tall, twin towers were set about catching any bit of noise that came his way. The movement of one rock against another, the shifting of sands, the quiet huffing as another try to keep their breath even as the cold air stung there longs. The thing was, Tiresias did not look blind - he did not have the pallid gaze, the still gaze of one who had never looked about, the hesitation. Upon the shore, he was confident, and it was with brilliant emerald green gemstones that he stared at the other. His ears were giving him the other’s approximate location, and for most, that was good enough. His mother and his foster mother had both worked hard to teach him how to blend in, to hide his disability. It had worked at least somewhat with Kijika, but now it was time to test it again. If the other seemed worthy, Tiresias would reveal his weakness to the other. All in due time…

Hello, good sir. What brings you to the Oceanside on a winter day? You have no fear of the thrashing of waves, or that perhaps a nor’easter could sweep in and pull from the depths of the ocean a giant wave, a tsunami? I have no excuse myself, other than I’m currently a nomad, calling no pack home. I am Tiresias, by the way. And your name?

||Tiresias||Teenager||Cold Summers Lost Heir of Faraway||Son of a Broken Home||Azura||




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