Creative Intent

The gentle sound of the waves crashing against the shoreline was a comforting rhythm, a song of serenity that matched with the Morningstar's steady breathing. His paws brushed the cool sand as he inspected his latest finds: a small pile of sea glass, their edges worn smooth by the tides, and a mound of moist clay scooped up from the shallows. These treasures had been gathered through patient scavenging, and would soon become something greater.

The fire crackled nearby, its warmth fighting off the sea breeze. Oath had taken great care to build it away from the shifting tides, using driftwood and dried seaweed for tinder. The flames danced hungrily now, their glow reflecting off the shards of glass that lay beside him as well as Oath's own reflective red horns. With deliberate movements, Oath began working his paws into the clay, testing its consistency and removing any debris or other impurities. This would be the foundation for a basin he intended to craft, something intended for a very special purpose.

Pausing, he glanced at the horizon where the sun dipped low, painting the world in hues of orange and gold. He knew his work might take him late into the evening, but he was prepared to see this through.