You think I'd get better at this eventually

After the Samhain festival when Venom had spontaneously lost her sight, Kumiho had volunteered to go search in foreign lands for a cure that might restore the Empress' lost sight. He was doing it to be a good and philanthropic member of the pack, of course, but more so he was doing it for Kitsune. Seeing how distraught she had been over her mother's sudden affliction spurred the wolf into action. He was no healer, but he was a seafarer, and he could find an answer somewhere out in the wide, wide world where no one else in Ashen could go. So, with a promise to return soon, he set sail from Boreas on his raft bound for distant lands. If there was an answer out there, he would find it.

That had been several months ago...

In that time, Iho had been to a great many places, seen a variety of strange and faraway lands, met wolves and animals of all sorts of cultures and customs. Each time he landed somewhere new, he wished he had brought Kitsune with him, but he knew his spirited little fire fox had been duty bound to stay with her mother and help look after Ashen. Each place he visited brought him closer to an answer, but it always seemed just out of reach. Like a cruel joke of a fetch quest, the sailor was sent island hopping from pack to pack, speaking with their healers and doctors, then following an obscure lead out to another location. Each time he got a little bit closer, but never quite close enough. Until finally he reached his destination and found a healer that knew remedies to help restore lost eyesight. After performing some tasks for the healer as payment, he was given a tincture and sent on his way with instructions. Kumiho set sail back to Boreas as quickly as he could, intent to be Kitsune's hero and save the day with his miracle cure from the ends of the earth!

Fate, it seemed, had other plans for the intrepid voyager. On his arrival into Boreal waters, the skies began to darken and the winds picked up into brutal gales. The gentle waves of the ocean became deadly whitecaps that rocked and tossed his raft like a toy in a maelstrom. Iho was a seasoned sailor and intimately familiar with his craft, but it still took all his might to keep the sails attached and tied down as the winds nearly ripped them to shreds. In the dark, it was virtually impossible to see where he was headed, and the clouds obscured his view of the heavens, making navigation a pipe dream. All Iho could do was hold his raft steady, keep the tincture safe in a satchel around his neck, and pray to the gods for good fortune. But the gods would turn out to be even crueler than fate. Gritting his teeth and grunting with the effort to hold the sail's ropes down so it didn't fly away, Iho squinted against the sting of rain whipping against his face. His cheeks burned and his muscles ached, but he held firm, claws digging into the wood of his raft to brace himself. Only the occasional flash of lightning allowed him to see the landmass of Boreas coming closer and closer. Almost there...!

A sudden strong gust of wind nearly jerked Iho off his paws and whipped the raft about, nearly capsizing it as a wave crashed into the side of the vessel. His paws slipped on the soaked wood, the rope ripping from his jaws as the raft was sent careening off course. Shit shit shit! Iho dove for the rope, missing it by inches as his teeth snapped down on nothing but air. The raft jerked again, almost throwing him overboard. He had to get control or he was done for! Eyes darting about the chaotic raft, he spotted the sail rope whipping about in the air like a wild snake. With one last ditch attempt, Iho lunged for the rope, and this time was rewarded for his efforts. He grabbed the rope, pulling the sail back under control. Success! Iho grinned triumphantly, giving a manic laugh of glee as he turned back to face the direction of Boreas.

He only had a second to see the rocks rising from the dark water as his raft sailed straight into them.

"Oh fuck." No sooner had the words left him, Kumiho felt the raft impact with the jagged rocks, smashing the craft upon their unyielding surface. The force of the impact sent Iho flying through the air and crashing into the sharp coldness of the inky black ocean. All at once the sailor was underwater, unable to tell up from down as he kicked and flailed, weightless in the crushing black oblivion of the sea. A brief flash of lightning lit up the surface, and Iho kicked with all his might towards it. He crested with a gasp just as a wave carried him away, the shipwrecked survivor screaming in panic before he was swallowed up by the sea again, spiraling out of control. His lungs ached for air, his whole body was cold, numb, and tired, running solely off his depleting oxygen and adrenaline. Iho kicked his way to the surface again, gasping for breath for a full two seconds before he was thrown into something hard which knocked all of the fight out of him. A rock, maybe, or a piece of his raft. Whatever it was, it was lights out for Iho. His fate was in the hands of the gods now.

- fade to black, but not the fun kind -

Daybreak brought clearer skies in the wake of the heavy storm. The roiling sea had calmed down to its gentle lull and the clouds had broken, showing clear blue spring skies and morning sunlight. It also revealed the carnage left on the Ashen shores. Shattered pieces of log and timber washed up on the beach, along with pieces of tattered sail barely held together by waterlogged rope. Somewhere amidst the wreckage, a white and cobalt body lay motionless at the edge of the surf, the gentle waves pushing him up onto the soft sands where they deposited his unconscious body for someone to find—or his lifeless corpse, depending on how long he laid there.

"Speech"