Sparrow stepped onto the black sand beach, the crushed obsidian crunching lightly underfoot. The sun saw low in the sky, with the black shards reflecting it with such luminosity, it appeared as if the ground were made of lava. The steep contrast between the rivets of sand which were shaded and not reflecting the sunset versus the ridges which were lit aflame by the sun's glow made a stark and shocking transition which emulated the seas themselves, appearing as if the sun were, in fact, illuminating an ocean held still rather than the sands. With each step, Sparrow looked back to see how the sun highlighted the ridges of her pawprint, the valleys of her pads appearing deep and darkened as if each were a chasm carved in the earth rather than the light steps of one enjoying the early evening.

Though warm from the earlier daylight, the ebony sands were no where near as insufferably hot as their glow may have suggested. Although it was still summer and the sands were indeed dark enough to become scorching in the height of the day, this particular day had been overcast, with the lazy clouds drifting overhead and their haze casting away the sun's rays in the peak of their heat. The clouds remained, but parted enough such that the golden hues of the sunset were cast strong during the golden hour. Sparrow had half the mind to bury herself in the sand and asphyxiate in their glory. She wished to lie in a sun-kissed mound upon the beach and watch the waves as they rolled rhythmically in until the sky was no longer alight and the air grew cold.

The mere idea of having to cleanse the countless granules of midnight sky off was revolting enough for her to be snapped to her senses and avoid snuggling down into the depths below her. As the clouds grew and dimmed the light, the surrounding scene faded into a near inky blackness in which heavens, sea, and land merged into one and only the sound of the ocean waves were there to remind of their place. The air grew damp and the stars and moon were drowned out by the oncoming storm. Sparrow was too far into the scene to avoid the rain, so she pushed on until she was beneath the covering of a tree some ways back from the waters.

Eventually, the first drops fell undetected in the darkness with the sound of the waves. Only once this became a steady pour did the precipitation become visible in the jet black landscape. What Sparrow didn't expect was the first flash of lightning. Its sharp light reflected off of the obsidian and the water so brightly that wrenching your eyes shut could leave a wolf seeing stars- and not the ones above the storm. The following, less intense flashes of lightning stretched and branched overhead, the smallest of their fractal tendrils still reflecting off the beach below. Enticing as an elaborate display of fireworks- something wolves would have to pretense for in their mind- it was difficult to determine whether to focus on the show above or below. Regardless of which display caught the attention, there was an immense and deep feeling of satisfaction, of gratitude and peacefulness.

The petrichor scent wafted heavy in the air, the hot humidity thick and palpable, only refreshed by each wave of rain that pushed the haze down. Although the storm offered cooling, the waters sank into the dark, warmed ground, causing steam to slowly rise from the pristine shards as they glimmered with the lightning. The fog settled inches from the ground, making the shine less intense and more dispersed, lighting up more of the surrounding area with every strike. It was an all-consuming kind of experience that enveloped the entire being and pressed firmly into their mind, forcing its way into their memory to never be forgotten.

Feelings of the night may be mixed- a feeling of nostalgia though no previous memory of the event at hand existed, a loneliness that wished for company in which to share the moment with, yet an appreciation of the solitude that came with solidary travel. It argued that both were appreciated and that being company or being alone were both ways to enjoy the same space. It conjured feelings of quiet thought, reminiscing, and wonder. It was the kind of night that went unspoken as a vivid and precious memory in the future. It was something to look back on as a moment of peace where the passing minutes felt like an eternity, but also mere seconds.

As quietly as it came, the rain went, leaving the lightshow in the unmarred heavens while the steam drifted skywards, illuminating the entire scene with every soft flicker of remaining skylight.

Wc: 802

Artisan was still feeling the absence of his beads heavily, heaving the occasional sigh as he walked along without the slightest jingle around his wrists. That stupid raccoon had ruined his introduction to Boreas, the theft had even overshadowed any excitement that the bachelor party had seeded about this new world. It was out of desperation that he found himself still walking the beach, just hoping - nay, praying - that the asshole had dropped his precious treasures in his rapid escape. So far he'd found no sign of the thief or his beads, though it didn't stop Artisan from poking his nose into the conversation of every wolf he'd passed by asking if they'd seen a raccoon with a kick-ass hat. Speaking of strangers, there was another up ahead and Artisan veered off towards her and tried to force the defeat from his face. "Excuse me miss, have you seen -" He interrupted himself, his sadness falling away to concern. She seemed to be having almost a bad a day as he was, and the considerate male had never passed by a saddened stranger without asking on them. "-Are you okay?" He gave her a friendly smile, taking a seat beside her and looking up at her. They grew their wolves big here, it seemed. "Talk" "Listen" Think

Sparrow was transfixed by the now quiet sky. It was a moment which gave her thoughts time to echo in her head. When the male suddenly appeared by her, asking if she had seen- wait no never mind he wanted to know if she was okay. Sparrow blinked several times, clearing the brain fog that had settled in her head. "Um, yeah just... Looking at the beach and thinkin' about- I dunno- the future and things?" The guy sat himself right up next to her and Sparrow regarded him skeptically for a moment before turning to look at the shore. "You were asking me something, though?"

Artisan listened, but the stranger's reply was brief. Maybe she was fine after all, generally a wolf who was down would elaborate further on their thoughts in Art's experience. "The future and things." He echoed thoughfully, looking up at the sky. "And what does your future have in store for you, then?" She'd asked him on what he was going to say before he interrupted himself and Artisan shrugged, trying to be nonchalant about it but unable to keep the defeat off his face. "Some asshole just stole some shit from me, it's really not a big deal. You don't worry your pretty head about it." Except it was a big deal. A massive deal in fact, and Artisan was going to rip that raccoons tail right off his body but that didn't matter because he was in the presence of a new friend. A new friend, a new bead, life went on even if a thieving raccoon stole pieces of your soul right from your chest. "Talk" "Listen" Think

The man asked what her future had in store and Sparrow eyed him with a mischievous, lopsided smile, "Nothing good, that's for sure, but probably something really fun." Emerald eyes flashed over to the man, her smile coy and lopsided smile, as if begging him to ask for more details. When she asked about him the whole man's demeanor sank no matter how he tried to worry about it. He said someone stole from him, tried to tell her it wasn't a big deal, then told her not to worry her pretty head about it. Sparrow scoffed, "Okay Mister Daybreak Coat, why don't you tell me who this asshole was and I'll worry my pretty little head about it while I let my sharps do the talking?" She stood, larger than the man by her side, flexing out her claws and elbow spikes. "Cmon, Daybreak, it'll be fun"

Fun was a future Artisan could get behind! It was almost enough to cause him to forget his own worries and want to jump in on the fun right along with her, but now she was offering to take care of the asshole on his behalf and the gross betrayal of the raccoon was fresh again in his mind. She stood - showcasing exactly how much taller she was then he was - and he saw movement on her elbows and paws. Artisan's neck craned around her to eyeball the mutations, looking quite impressed. "Damn lady, you're pointy in all the right places." He teased before getting to his own feet, stepping forward with intent to prod a toe against her elbow spikes. "But believe me if I knew who this asshole was, one of my very loyal siblings would have already captured the heathen. He's gone - poof - vanished into the trees like some fucking ninja and he took my beloved mementos with him." He sighed, and slapped a paw against the ground before dragging a single claw through the dirt, sketching roughly his lost bracelet and beads as he continued. "Oh well, it means it's time to make new memories and you, lady, you're worth remembering. What sort of fun is in your future and how might I weasel my way in?" "Talk" "Listen" Think

The man looked at her, clearly impressed, and Sparrow beamed. Damn right he should be impressed. She wasn't some empty-headed dream girl, she was a BEEFY empty-headed dream girl! He commented on her points and she flexed them out a few times like flipping a switchblade. He then explained he didn't know who stole his stuff. Sparrow hummed thoughtfully before he slapped a paw on the ground, bringing Sparrow's attention (and ego) back down to earth.

It was time to make new memories, huh? He asked what he needed to do to be in her future and a wicked smile arose on her maw, "Well, you just gotta learn to hold your own cause some of this fun mght be raiding and looting and drinking a lot. You ever been to a party where booze outnumbers the wolves 3 to 1? Well, if you have, you shouldn't remember it- if you do, you were doing it all wrong and I'll have to teach you the proper way to party." She turned to him, lopsided smile on full display, "Whaddya say, Daybreak? Follow good ol' Captain Sparrow in the pirate band in exchange for some good memories"

Everything this lady said was like magic, and Art found his head bobbing enthusiastically up and down with every word she spoke. "Oh fuck yeah, i love drinking myself stupid." The promise of alcohol and fun times was the easiest part to latch onto, and he found himself only slightly concerned by the whole raiding and fighting thing. Art was a lover not a fighter, but then again perhaps he'd draw the attention of more beautiful men and ladies with some battle scars scattered across his sunset coat. "I'm in." He declared, lifting a paw to place over his heart to show the sworn promise of his words. "Can we go do pirate shit right now? I could use some booze. OH, will there be ladies? Please tell me there will be pretty ladies. Or men, I can do either." It hadn't occurred yet to him that he'd not given her his name, 'daybreak' suited him just fine. "Talk" "Listen" Think