THE WAVES WILL BREAK! -- hellhound. regent.

autumn had come so quickly, and with it had come the changes of weather that he had familiarized himself with. he knew that this weather change was different, a feeling of tension curdling through the air, his gaze on the skies. just what was going to happen? most of the land had already began to settle for sleep, the trees of their territory already beginning to wear their vibrant autumn dresses and the birds and bears beginning to feed themselves fat to survive the cold winter, off of bitter berries and roots. out and about the forest himself, the Regent paused to watch a small herd of three does, a buck, and a few fawns bolt from an alcove of trees, too far to have been startled by himself. frowning, he turned his golden gaze heavenward, ears strained for any sound that he might hear.

said patience was rewarded by the sound of thunder crashing and snarling overhead, stirring an old memory of his firstborn children scrambling around in a childhood brawl, so full of life that they didn't know what to do about it all. a small smile graced his maw with its few hints of silver among dark fur, before it faded as he watched the clouds roll and crash together, ears flattening as rain began to fall. as far as he knew, they were landlocked, and had no understanding of any other group's struggle with the storm ravaging the coasts of their isle. it wouldn't be amiss in truth for the same storm to lay waste to their group, as it would many others. swallowing, the Regent decided to end his forest walk early for the day and head back home, hearing the wind screaming through the trees above his head. this certainly was no normal wind, but it didn't have the tone of some of the worst winds he'd lived through. it didn't feel right, regardless.

he could feel the few amounts of gaudy jewelry that he wore, swinging in the wind as he headed back for the settlement of Blackmont March, his steps troubled and head heavy with thoughts he could not escape. shaking his head, the Regent broke into a trot, headed back for town as the rain began to pound down with a ferocity he didn't enjoy, the wind lashing at his already quickly soaked frame and tearing at the fur coat he wore over his own. snarling as the wind whipped the pelt off his shoulders, whirling to catch it and carry it in his jaws, paws leading him to The Tipsy Skein and into the shelter that the building offered. he had faith that his group members were smart enough to find immediate shelter from the storm, and to wait it out.

// as far as the group is aware, they are landlocked/far from sea and thus the effects are not as severe as the coastal regions //

[align=center]"speech" .. 'thoughts' .. attack