With straightforward enough directions fresh in his mind, Dread set out. A few days behind the rest of his party, caused by a detour up to the Armada-- no worries. Frankly, probably for the best that he'd returned home, and done without taking a bath on his way south. Lingering scents of the redwoods and chilly north clung to his fur instead of the salt air and tropics of his more recent haunts. It's good cover.
It seemed spring was making an appearance in Auster. Feeling the afternoon warmth as it washes over his back, his shoulders. A jog as he moves down the Shore-- Dread has been here before. The last time, under different circumstances. The water had been acting strangely then, like there was something coming. Ominous. Foreboding.
Today? Normal. The thing leaving Dread unsettled was likely his own head, but that's not anything new. Finding a spot in the shade to pass the warmest part of the afternoon, Dread settles, unwraps a snack from his bag, and allows himself to rest.
Bard
