The days begin to shorten as the months pass by. Winter has come much faster than expected, but as usual Pangea changes little with the seasons. Not much grows here, just a cactus here and there. It was really the only form of flora he did not blight with his powers. Something in the way it screamed "fuck off" sent a sensation of pleasure down his loins.
Today the undead thing traverses a long stretch of canyon to the east bordering the sealine. He doesn't care for water and so he often avoids the shores of the kingdom, but today there is a draw to be here.
The long black dreads of his mane swing along his sienna-colored hide. The gaping wounds of his body began morphing again and he thinks to how long it has been since he fed. Much too long he decides. Alas there is little to eat in the way of his preferences. He snorts, head hung level as he walks lazily across the muted barren soil.
Tall rocky ledges reach high above him along both sides. Their mixed layers of yellow, red and gray show the brutal past of the kingdom. Each line a different era with a history as profound as any land in Beqanna.
In the distant horizon he can spot a break in the walls guard. Opening up to the gray sanded shoreline and the warm sea air that kept the snow of winter from enveloping the kingdom in its icy grasp. The undead being didn't care for snow either.
The gulls call overhead as he walks amongst the brushy sea grasses. White specks congregate down the shores, taking off before the waves get too close, landing just as they recede. Plucking crustaceans from the sands and scavenging remains that have washed ashore, unbothered by his presence here.
Another few paces down the beach he finds a spot where some thorny bushes have crept their way onto the lands. He stops to examine them, deciding their faint with a few random thoughts. Thoughts that are suddenly distracted as he realizes he is not alone here.
@
Oaks
Possesses health transference
and may steal your health.