He rushed. It was an odd thing, considering. Here was this man, his body nearly wasted away, bolting from one end of the beach to the other. His pace was broken, he stumbled often, but he kept moving. From one end of the beach, to the other, only stopping when something shiny caught his eye. He'd pick up the stone, move to his favorite rock and drop it there, before continueing on his pace. In the past few days, perhaps even a week, his pretty rock collection had doubled, had tripled, as he bounded from one end to the other. His paws kicked up sand that hand seen the sun in a thousand years, his lungs and chest heaved with breath as he moved. Never once did he touch the water, and for once his eyes weren't stuck on the waves. But he continued to move, to distract himself, to create a collection. He had felt this burst of energy a week ago. It awoke him from his sleep, how little and broken that was, and all he wanted to do was run. So, he did.   He had run for hours, for miles. Ran off the beach, reached the volcano and back again. He had run to places he had never seen, but didn't stop to see. He panted, his adrenaline keeping him going as his stamina waned before he got his second, third, fourth, fifth wind. He moved, fast, he bolted, he ran. He rushed, he tumbled. He cried, endlessly, sometimes with tears and sometimes with pants, sometimes just his soul cried as he ran. But today, he ran in a contained way. Keeping his attention on his rocks, as the pile grew more and more and more. He could put any cheetah to shame. His paws bled, at times, as he pushed his withering body more and more and more but he didn't stop. Because if he stopped that would be it. He was running away from the thing that would break him, and he was running towards the thing that would keep him safe. What that was, he hadn't a clue. It was instinctual, it was instant. But he continued to run until his body might finally give out. Perhaps he was a spectacle, perhaps his family would say he had finally gone mad, but he didn't care. For once, he didn't care. He just ran. Running, that was all he was. His energy boundless, his breath endless, his adrenaline kept him going. From what, he hadn't a clue. But he kept going. Forever and for endless, he ran. "Speech"

He decided take a walk on the beach, not that he would find any herb to restock his supplies of course. The violent winds buffeted his earthen coat, tugging and pulling it at multiple angles as if it couldn't decide which direction to flow in. Loose sand flew into his eyes, and he did tried to predict when such annoyances would occur, though the best he could do was shut his eyes as a means of protection. The ocean was at a rage with grey water churning, spewing alabaster foam as the waves roughly crashed along the shore, frigid droplets dampening his fur. Occasionally he noticed little puffs of white air escaping from his maw as he exhaled, the sight making him shiver and fluff out his pelt. His joints ached with the cold that seeped into his body, paws gradually growing numb with every step he took upon the moist sand. Somewhere behind the thick, ashen clouds laid a sun wanting to break free from its stormy prison, though wasn't strong enough to do so. A dismal day it seemed to be, and now he began to regret ever coming out for a stroll in the first place. However, he did find something, and though it wasn't a herb it was equally as intriguing. It was new - his bronze gaze hadn't ever rested on such an anomaly. He blinked at the sight: a pile of shiny rocks, and a good-looking pile he had admit. They weren't just any rocks, like the ordinary, plain ones he always came across by the beach. Someone had taken the effort to make such a pile, but who? His limbs halted by the mound, already starting feeling stiff though he took no notice of the uncomfortable feeling. For a long time he observed the pile, examining every contour and shade of the rocks, fascination building up inside of him. How interesting, how random...though confusing nonetheless. Had someone made this or had the tide just swept in rocks in such an unlikely manner? If it was someone, why? What was its purpose? A pet rock on its own sounded so absurd to the healer, but a whole collection? Sure, he kept a collection of plants though at least they were of use to him, unlike stones. Momentarily he saw the yellow form of his elder, bolting along the beach like the sleek lightning he was. It wasn't the first time he had seen him running in the past few days, though of course with this blustery weather it wasn't unusual to do so. Perhaps he knew of this strange rock pile and would be willing to exchange such knowledge. So he quietly waited by the mound, watching his brother approach closer and closer and hoping he would take the time out of his run to answer his questions. "Speech"

His paws indented in the sand, pushing him harder and harder until his muscles screamed. Yet he kept moving, kept pushing himself, kept trying to go faster. His whole existence, at this moment, was running. It kept his mind free of thoughts, especially of thoughts of her. It helped him breathe, helped him feel. Too often he felt numb, felt nothing. Felt...alone. He hated to feel alone. Tired, stormy gaze lifted from the ground to look forward, blinking in wide surprise when he saw his brother. He moved to stop, to skid in the sand so that he could talk to him, because why else would Terrae be standing beside his pretty rock collection. His paws fumbled, and before he knew it, he was thrown forward with his momentum, rolling and tumbling in the sand with nothing but a surprised gasp. When he finally managed to stop, he was on his back several feet from where he had tried to stop. Wide stormy eyes stared up at the bright blue sky before, suddenly, he began to laugh. His sides and chest heaved as he laughed hard, his body squirming against the sand before he tilted his head to look at his brother. A small smile was on his face, rumbling laughs still tumbling from his lips. "Heya Terrae, fancy meeting you here." He said with a laugh, giggling as he rolled to his side and his paws, standing fully and shaking what he could from his fur. "Admiring my collection?" "Burn Baby Burn"

His resting facial expression abruptly snapped into one of surprise as his approaching brother lost his footing and fumbled forward. Though the sand was soft and seemingly harmless, a million scenarios instantly ran through the healer's head. Bruises? Sprained ankles? A hit to the head? He was about to ask though was cut off by laughter, and he lifted his curious gaze to find the lightning-marked male on his back. By his cheery greeting he seemed unharmed, and the healer couldn't smell any blood though he wouldn't make such quick assumptions. "What a meeting too," he added with a small smile, tone growing with concern as he inquired, "Are you sure you're alright?" He hated to ruin anyone's fun, though he was worrisome by nature. A healer had to be wary, and that was his duty after all. Ah, so the rock collection was Voltage's. Strange indeed; he was the last canine he presumed to have made it. Being nicknamed 'Rocky', Terrae himself would have been the ideal choice. I collect herbs, not rocks, he reminded himself sternly, bringing the same questions back to his mind. At least now he knew who had created it, but why? What was its purpose? Was it more than just a mound of stones? "Oh yes," he replied with a nod, getting another good look at the pile. "It's a very fine collection of...rocks." And that was totally normal. "Speech"