The salty water splashes around his white legs, it tugs him with each wave crashing. Strong muscles propel him through the last few feet of foaming waves. The sweltering heat hits him almost immediately, it was not Tinuvel. His crystal blue eyes scan the dunes that spread out before him in endless miles. His mouth opens before shutting once again, his throat was parched. He takes his first step on to Salem, he has not been here since he was a boy. A ocean breeze kicks up and tosses his mess of ebony hair.


He was not experienced in this environment, the sand pulls at his legs with every stride. He remembers the inhabitants of this land were usually lithe in stature, quick with agility. He was not. He was built for the frigid cold winters of the north. He had extra hair lining his legs for protection from the biting cold, thick mess of mane and tail. A huff exits his lips. Way to go Björn you have found yourself in the middle of this blasted desert!


Björn knows it will only be a matter of time before the owner of these lands finds him wandering through their land. With a snort he opens his maw and lets out a bugle. The sound reverberates off of the dunes around him and echoes on through the lands. He climbs the next dune, his crystal eyes scan the distance. Here, he would wait for whomever was going to greet him.


ooc: Im thinking Björn is going to hang for a little while. He will help guard the lands... but he may have his conditions ;)