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Description
Strand finds their friend beached on a tide that was also carrying an unnatural amount of shark teeth. What strange dumping ground has collected on this shore?

art
10 (shaded) 5 (full body) 30 (scenic bg) 5 (elemental x1) 5 (personal) 10 (event) 10 (interact x1) || TOTAL AP: 75
4 (shaded) 2 (full body) 10 (scenic bg) 5 (elemental x1) 4 (event) || TOTAL GP: 25
writing
10 (writing, wc: 530) 5 (elemental x1) 5 (personal) 10 (event) 10 (interact x1) || TOTAL AP: 40
5 (writing, wc: 530) 5 (elemental x1) 4 (event) || TOTAL GP: 14

It had been in an instant. Poubelle was standing before Strand in the forested remains of his city boundary, but in one breeze, the pale esk's form was disintegrated, his familiars lingering only a moment before falling out of existence themselves. For a moment, Strand wondered if they had just witnessed the second death, but the next moment, they felt a strange pitch in their stomach. A wave of energy had plummeted through them like a rock, settling in an uncomfortable wedge at the base of their being. The ocean. Strand's source. It had swallowed something familiar.

Strand was not eager to return to those shores, but the comfort of others often leaves little choice. They knew the direction well, now, having spent so much time tracing around it, but they were still unprepared for the view over the mountain's edge. The ceaseless gray-blue under an overcast sky extended forever, taunting Strand with the endlessness of their new existence. With each step, Strand could feel the tempting powers return to them. First, as their paws dug into the rough sand, their branches came slowly breaking out of the skin of their back. Some fur knocked loose around the stumpy bases, the driftwood creaking in the wind as Strand continued their approach. Then, as the tide tickled their ankles, a blinding star erupted from their crown, blurring out their peripheral vision with its brightness. The sudden, intense light almost forced a tear out of their eyes as their thin nictitating lids squeezed closed. Luckily, that was as far as the ocean forced them.

Along the edge of a lonely shore, Strand could see the pale, twisted shape of a cold creature, crumpled over itself like a plastic bag. The tide still kicked the little body, threatening to pull it deeper below. Strand didn't run. They came up slowly, letting Poubelle's details come gradually into view. His nature was all gone, not a leaf remaining after the teleportation had ripped them from the woods. His legs were jetting out in all directions, and around them, sharp stones scratched at his skin. No, not stones. Teeth. Hundreds or thousands, Strand couldn't tell, but for some ethereal reason, this beach had collected them as an exclusive decoration. Maybe their rigid sharpness represented something, or maybe it was the helplessness of their current station outside the mouth, discarded and lost to the sand like arrowheads.

Gently, Strand lifted Poull's neck with their nose, teasing their body underneath until a blanket of tail rested under Poull's head. Curving back around to block the water, Strand laid by their friend's side, waiting. Poubelle had waited on them how many times, for how many days? It didn't matter how long it took. As Strand allowed the ocean's power to fill them, they let a beam of evening light wash gently over Poull. Here they would stand guard for as long as it took. Whether it was the shock of the sudden change in location or some deeper illness that had crept over Poull's spirit, Strand would see it through, loyal to their post just as their friend had been for years of travel and longer still of bonding.

Description
Strand finds their friend beached on a tide that was also carrying an unnatural amount of shark teeth. What strange dumping ground has collected on this shore?

art
10 (shaded) 5 (full body) 30 (scenic bg) 5 (elemental x1) 5 (personal) 10 (event) 10 (interact x1) || TOTAL AP: 75
4 (shaded) 2 (full body) 10 (scenic bg) 5 (elemental x1) 4 (event) || TOTAL GP: 25
writing
10 (writing, wc: 530) 5 (elemental x1) 5 (personal) 10 (event) 10 (interact x1) || TOTAL AP: 40
5 (writing, wc: 530) 5 (elemental x1) 4 (event) || TOTAL GP: 14

It had been in an instant. Poubelle was standing before Strand in the forested remains of his city boundary, but in one breeze, the pale esk's form was disintegrated, his familiars lingering only a moment before falling out of existence themselves. For a moment, Strand wondered if they had just witnessed the second death, but the next moment, they felt a strange pitch in their stomach. A wave of energy had plummeted through them like a rock, settling in an uncomfortable wedge at the base of their being. The ocean. Strand's source. It had swallowed something familiar.

Strand was not eager to return to those shores, but the comfort of others often leaves little choice. They knew the direction well, now, having spent so much time tracing around it, but they were still unprepared for the view over the mountain's edge. The ceaseless gray-blue under an overcast sky extended forever, taunting Strand with the endlessness of their new existence. With each step, Strand could feel the tempting powers return to them. First, as their paws dug into the rough sand, their branches came slowly breaking out of the skin of their back. Some fur knocked loose around the stumpy bases, the driftwood creaking in the wind as Strand continued their approach. Then, as the tide tickled their ankles, a blinding star erupted from their crown, blurring out their peripheral vision with its brightness. The sudden, intense light almost forced a tear out of their eyes as their thin nictitating lids squeezed closed. Luckily, that was as far as the ocean forced them.

Along the edge of a lonely shore, Strand could see the pale, twisted shape of a cold creature, crumpled over itself like a plastic bag. The tide still kicked the little body, threatening to pull it deeper below. Strand didn't run. They came up slowly, letting Poubelle's details come gradually into view. His nature was all gone, not a leaf remaining after the teleportation had ripped them from the woods. His legs were jetting out in all directions, and around them, sharp stones scratched at his skin. No, not stones. Teeth. Hundreds or thousands, Strand couldn't tell, but for some ethereal reason, this beach had collected them as an exclusive decoration. Maybe their rigid sharpness represented something, or maybe it was the helplessness of their current station outside the mouth, discarded and lost to the sand like arrowheads.

Gently, Strand lifted Poull's neck with their nose, teasing their body underneath until a blanket of tail rested under Poull's head. Curving back around to block the water, Strand laid by their friend's side, waiting. Poubelle had waited on them how many times, for how many days? It didn't matter how long it took. As Strand allowed the ocean's power to fill them, they let a beam of evening light wash gently over Poull. Here they would stand guard for as long as it took. Whether it was the shock of the sudden change in location or some deeper illness that had crept over Poull's spirit, Strand would see it through, loyal to their post just as their friend had been for years of travel and longer still of bonding.