green isn't my colour

Even calling this place an Island felt far too generous. The air reeked of copper, unsurprisingly, thick and heavy in the air- like old blood upon his tongue. He carefully picked his way across the terrain, it was uneven and choppy under paw, as it the ocean waves had taken chunks out of the island and dragged them back to the depths. What little plant life remained was clearly only just barely clinging on, the waves paired with the clearly toxic soil reminded him of the city. That natures will wasn't always enough to find a way, some places were just far beyond salvaging and this island seemed about it.