Yros

Paw prints in the sand.

These were both reminders and remnants that living beasts walked along the Sunset Shore. Particularly on that day, those specific prints belonged to the one known as Ailill. He was a large male with fur as white and pristine as the pearls of the ocean itself. He had made the decision to come to the shore in order to do some thinking and clear his head. The male needed to figure out the course of action he was going to take in his life. And what better place was there to do that than a placid and calm beach? The wolf padded through the shining sand with his ears pricked forward, and his rhino-like horns on display. His soulstone rested comfortably in the ring nestled around the base of his middle horn. This was the perfect example of a predator on display, if one existed.

Be that as it may, Ailill was not there for hunting or wreaking havoc of any sort. When he came reasonably into the depths of the territory, he sat down, curling his tail around his paws. His baby blues matched the patterns on his shoulders and hips as he looked to the sky. There were so many directions and paths he could potentially follow. He had several things yet to achieve in his lifetime, and Ail planned to do so. How he was going to get where he needed to go, and what he had to achieve were the mysteries that even he himself did not know. The wolf did know that those answers would not magically appear before him however; Ailill had to take action. The water at his paws appeared to be encouraging him to start somewhere as it lapped at the sand.

This was merely the beginning.

he's still where he sits at the shoreline and gemini regards him skeptically. she doesn't know him - but that's not surprising. he doesn't seem to have the high court scent on his coat and given how many others there are in the vicinity, it's not unthinkable that she wouldn't know a face. in fact, it's downright likely. she was not the heiress - she didn't have anything to lose by shirking whatever presumed responsibilities she has to smooze the court.

her long legs stretch out and she approaches the stranger, curious. boredom has been a constant companion, even the thauma going haywire wasn't enough to spice it up to keep her entertained. with her beloved betrothed busy and their catty conversations on a hold, gemini has little to fill her days with. so she hopes that he, perhaps, can give her a taste of adventure.

her roman nose is lifted and she sniffs, ever the imperious princess, as she rocks down to sit on her haunches. her fiery eyes slide over to regard Ailill with a tiny little quirk of her dark lips. "out here to talk to the gods?" she presses, her voice steady and without any of the condescension she would like to spare. the gods - as if they were still something to be worshipped while they went radio silence and yros went to shit. "or are you, perhaps, plotting?"