Post by machi on Jun 21, 2008 10:20:11 GMT -5
After a harsh boat ride, a medium sided crate was carried to Anikira. Was it by fate or a curl joke Tor and Fenris wished to play on the young femme who had washed ashore to this far off island? No one would know, but for now this island was surely the beginning of a new life for this young femme. Was it, however, for better or for worse? Only time can tell.
The waves on Endyt Beach ebbed ever so smoothly. On the banks at the edge of the ebbing waters laid an exhausted young femme. She was only a little over a year old, that much could be told from her small still developing frame. She hadn't even hit adolescents yet. Her earthly colored fur was matted from the sea salt as well as seaweeds. Her frame was thin and sickly. The high smell of the ocean was soaked into her fur and would probably remain for a week or two. Over all this young femme was in bad shape and very much in need of some assistance.
Groggily the young femme rose from Endyt Beach's surface. Sand plastered to her wet fur from where she laid. She groaned softly as her body protested her actions. She felt very weak, and sick. Emotionless brown orbs scanned the area, dazed like. Her optics where glazed over, almost feverish. 'Where am I?' Tearing her eyes away from the scenery around her she coughed up some sea water, gagging on the strong salty taste. Her body gave a violent shudder as it acted as if she where going to throw up, however there was nothing in her stomach to empty. Salty taste was replaced with the sour bitter taste of stomach bile. Coughing more the young she-wolf groaned again.
Once she was sure she wasn't going to try and throw up again the she-wolf looked around Endyt Beach once more. Turning around, she looked out at the ocean. Spotting broken wood from the crate she was once in the she-wolf pieced together what had happened. 'That's right that storm threw me off, and my box hit some rocks then I washed up here.' She concluded summing up what had happened and how she got her. Looking between the ocean and the distance of the beach, the she-wolf decided there was no way off this island and she'd best take the time to explore.
Slowly patting along the beach, the femora stopped every now and then and looked back at her perfectly made tracks in the sand. Her eye gave a slight twitch, along with her tail. A sign of a slight annoyance. 'Just ignore it...' She told herself, so what if the paw prints where just so perfectly made in the sand, along with how perfectly the waves flowed up and just barely covered them over. Her body shivered, the more she thought about it the more it annoyed her. Turning around on her heels, the femme stalked back the way she came. She walked over her paw prints several times until it was all just a scattered mess of imprint in the sand. Looking t her imperfection she watched it all be washed away and smudged by the water's ebbing waves. Satisfied the she-wolf continued on her way, making sure to make messy tracks.