the world is purple

Wind licked at swirling tendrils of cream and slate as the slender male moved through The Stone Steppe towards strongly scented territory lines. Smooth strides ceased as creamy paws kissed the earth just before that musky line. Pale eyes consumed the land before him with vivid hunger. Rhysand knew he would gain little to nothing in these lands as a rogue. Loner life was freeing but that was about it. He desired more then endless roaming and fleeting companions.

That green gaze took in the stone spires and structures that sprouted from the green ground. It was as if the Gods grabbed the crude rock from deep beneath the earth's outer layer and drew it out. Some of the formations were taller then trees and others slanted to form arches. The territory itself was enough to amplify already growing curiosity. Thus, Rhy lifted his head up to the heavens and let forth a howl, summoning leadership.