The altar

Xairo moved slowly along the rocky shore, his eyes scanning the surf for something suitable to bring back as an offering of the water element. The waves lapped at his paws, the icy water sending a chill through his fur. He spotted a tidepool nestled between two large boulders and made his way over, careful not to slip on the slick, seaweed-covered rocks.

Xairo reached a paw into the chilly water, feeling around until his claws scraped against the shell's smooth surface. He pulled it out and examined it closely. It was a stunning specimen - unblemished and perfectly formed, large enough to hold a generous quantity of seawater for their ritual. Satisfied with his find, Xairo lifted the shell reverently in his jaws. Xairo carefully made his way back up the treacherous cliffside path, the large seashell clenched delicately between his jaws. The muted roar of the waves faded behind him as he ascended, replaced by the rustle of wind through the pines.

"Xairo Saxe"