going in circles

Unlike the mainland, Raumr had heard rumor that things on the islands were truly wild. Untamed by those that lingered on the massive continent that was Boreas. Inwardly, he wondered if there were felines there that wished for a home. Wished for a place that would provide sanctuary and safety from the cruel world. It was a high hope because he knew that not all cats wanted to belong. Solitude was sometimes better than a family, he wouldn't blame them, but it was in his blood, his genetics, he needed to help, to provide, to be there.

Crossing the channel had been easy. Soaked by saltwater, the massive feline prowled the sandy shore around the dilapidated building. As he searched, he noticed how his stomach rumbled. His nostrils, downwind from where it blew in off the eastern side, took in the scent of burros. A small herd, from what he could scent, enough that taking one of them wouldn't be dire. Slowly, he creeps forward, hunkering down into the grass that lines the dune separating sand from grass, creeping closer to the small herd of burro. Waiting for the right moment, he watches them intently.

Raumr Regalus, the Third