Burn it down

Best that the little white male was on his guard, for a black-grey shadow moved the confier trees. Gargoyle was afoot in the Northern Lands, and his mood was about as cold as the wind which stirred his fur. He cared not for the wind's bite, nor the prick of needles underpaw, nor even the roar of the ocean. He pushed his paws onward, but his mind was off in it's farthest recesses. The beast let his powerful body coast, forcing his injured leg to take another step, his injured neck to keep bearing up. No traces of pain or even discomfort showed in the face of the brute. No traces of... anything really. His eyes were blank and lifeless, more reptilian than lupine. Their yellow gaze had espied the coast from afar, and he had chosen to get to it the hardway. By water.

Nimble enough to give credit to his three quarters of Eastern Timber blood, he navigated his way down the sheer grey cliffs and into the rocky shoals bellow. For a time he had climbed over the outlying ridges of wet stone, sometimes scrambling for purchase, some times twitching his tattered ear against the onslaught of a fresh wave. The forces of nature didn't seem to matte to the male. He'd dealt with everything from white out blizzards to a volcanic eruption. A few splashes of water weren't worth batting an eye about.

Towards the cove however, he could stop acting like a mountain goat and start just wading through the icy shallows - well, shallows for a brute of his height anyway-. Eventually the water level dropped from his belly to his hocks, then just rippled in and out to cover his paws. The cool sanded cove began quite suddenly, displaying a secret niche unknown, perhaps, to the rest of the outside world. His fur flattened by salt water, Gargoyle raised his head and sniffed the breeze. He wasn't alone. The Chief tucked away the information and continued his stride forwards onto dryer sand, where wind-tossed pine needles and half broken cones littered the strange beach. He shook out his thick fur absently and then, without looking in the direction of the certain tree, said plain, "If you are one of the 'new glaciems' - one of Eos's lot - I suggest you leave. I didn't come all this way to have my afternoon spoiled."