Fractured

As a Scout for the Armada, it was his duty to go looking around the land for things that were unusual. Of course, his proper title was that of the hunter, but with hunting came scouting, and dammit Wilder was great at both. When the tremors began and the spires rose from the earth, wolves had congregated there in Boreas. It was not soon after that whispers were spreading about something odd in Auster. He had avoided Auster for awhile now and while he wasn't sure about his feelings toward the Warlord, Wilder was finding himself to be quite the loyal wolf.

Arriving on the sandy shores, purposefully not looking at the looming castle, Wilder approaches the top of a dune. Grass tickles his legs as a calm wind shifts toward him. Cold, salty air greets him as he lifts his chin to look across toward the knolls of Fossil Ridge. Between there and where he stood on the shore, he saw something he'd never seen before. Winding rivulets of raised earth almost like if a cat had drug its claws down the dirt to make scratch marks.

Before he could investigate even more, a familiar, but not familiar wolf caught his attention. Far smaller than Oleander, but far closer in appearance, this wolf surely must be a Fatalis. Walking toward the small girl, Wilder lifts a brow. "Who're you?" He asks, nerves alight with uncertainty as he avoids stepping on the raised earth.

"Wilder"