From one end to the other
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" |