Aros had never seen such a bitter, desolate place. He loved it immediately. The water was gunmetal grey, the sand as black as the night sky, the wind as cold as he had ever felt. He was surrounded by slabs of blood red stone and over head rolled storm clouds. A blizzard was certainly on the way, though it currently had yet to break. He and Impra had been walking for quite some time, and had been through so many different lands Aros had begun to wander whether their journey would ever end. He had grown to quite enjoy her company, of course, but still. She always seemed to know where they were headed, and could tell him exactly where they had been, but Aros was ever eager for their destination.
He had spotted this beach from the corner of his eye as they made their way ever more northward. It had been less conscious decision and more the willful rebellion of his paws that had carried him to the water's edge. Now that he was here, he felt so magnetized to the area that he was unsure if he would ever be able to leave again. He looked over his shoulder, trying to see if Impra had by any chance followed him, or whether she had sent him a wayward glare and kept on her way. He could not abandon the princess of course, but neither did he feel he could leave just yet. Not yet. Something had to happen here first, to commemorate his discovery. He needed a memory.
