The winds picked up speed and the rain poured. Genesis turns his nose to the sky, heavy-lidded eyes closed with a heavy sigh. The rain plasters his seafoam green hair to his face and the back of his neck. Why was I out here again?... Oh well it doesn’t matter… He shakes the hair out of his eyes and starts to move forward. Find a place to wait out the storm, or a place to stay for good. It didn’t matter which. Crash! Like an array of symbols the thunder precedes a streak of lightning that makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up. The trees around him bend and branches whip back and forth as the violent storm abuses them. This sucks. He steps out past the treeline- the muddy soil that clung to his paws gives way to equally soggy sand- only to see that he was in for a bad time. A huge column of hair spins violently in front of him- the winds here almost strong enough to knock him off his feet. Almost? Wait no. That’s not right. A flash of terror shoots up his spine as he realizes what’s happening a fraction of a second too late. The wind lifts him up off the ground as he desperately digs his claws into the sandy beach finding no foothold to save him- it all fades to black.

The sound of seagulls wailing over head comes to him before any sensation of his body does. What? I’m not dead? Suddenly like a crashing wave he feels an aching sear through every muscle in his body. The next thing he feels is the gentle lapping of the tide against his lower half. With a groan he opens his eyes and looks around. More sandy beaches. The skies seemed to have calmed down. An overwhelming sense of tiredness. There didn’t appear to be any immediate threat. I guess I’ll just lay here until someone finds me… or I die. He resigns to his fate, chuckling to himself a little. Death wouldn’t be unwelcome but he knew himself better than that. Eventually he’d find the energy to get up and continue wandering.

ooc Whoever finds him can decide if he's crossed the border or not and whether he should be enslaved or not!

Tortuga was a mess.

The beaches were littered with branches and stones, leaves and straw. The hurricane had done a number on the beaches, but thank fully, the inland was largely untouched. The gale was still harsh, but it had largely died down from the night previous. Octavia's paws made small dents in the sand, the sun having dried most of it from the thunderstorm and the rain. She had been tasked to comb the beaches for anything particularly useful; and to be on the look out for bodies. She had found nothing yet, and she was thankful for it.

A smirk found its way to her lips as she remembered the night before. The hurricane and bellowing winds had been terrifying, the Watchmen forced to abandon the borders in favour of their lives. It was by some miracle that she had found one of her colleagues, Moccasin. The golden girl was a pretty sight, and the pair had huddled into the nearest den that they could find, sheltered from the whipping winds until dawn. Snuggling against a warm body had been pleasant, Octavia had been so used to sleeping alone for so long.

But alas, she had a job to do.

She didn't want to disappoint her Crow, as thus she set off early before giving a cheeky wink to Moccasin. Her search proved to be largely unfruitful, but Tortuga's beaches stretched far and wide. The surviving palm trees gentle blew in the wind, covered by the warming sun. A flash of green caught the Watchmans attention, stance pausing for a moment as she squinted; tail automatically raising as the outline of a body became visible.

“Oi!!” She called, paws working on bringing her closer across the shifting sands. The lower end of the male was covered in lapping waves, thankfully his head and nose remained out of the boundary lest he drown in the shallows. Tipping her head back, the Watchman called in for more assistance before drawing nearer. She didn't recognise the man from first glances, though Octavia spent most of her time on the borders, it was likely she had missed people.

Lime hair was strewn about the mans face, Octavia's paw shifting to push and shake at his shoulder to jostle him. ”Up an' at  'em. You're lucky to be alive,” She'd speak, raising her voice more in order to rouse the other man. Did she need a Surgeon? Possibly. Water inhalation would damage the lungs, and who knew what kind of beating he had taken from the winds and flying debris.

”Name's Octavia, remember where you are?”

There was a loud ringing in his ears. Maybe it was because of the pain? He could barely hear anything. Ugh. Maybe I should just lay here. The sand is soft. Soft sand. The salt in the air was a tad too pungent for him though.

"Oi!" What was that? A voice. He turns his head half heartedly looking for the source of the sound. Then he heard footsteps and a nudge at his shoulder. His lush green eyes meet with the most dazzling pair of purple eyes he had ever seen. ”Up an' at  'em. You're lucky to be alive,”

"Oh wow. You're gorgeous." His words sounded nothing but sincere. He blinks and realizes what words he just blurted out and coughs to cover up his embarrassment. The long lime locks drip down his face and he gives them a shake. As he tries to stand an agonizing flash of white hot pain courses through his front right leg. So much so that he lets out an embarrassing yelp and promptly falls back on his face. His ears droop, "Well I hate to have you see me like this, Love, but I don't believe I can stand." He looks up and gives her a grin, although the dark ring of brown fur around his eyes gives him a perpetually sad look even if he's smiling. 

He looks around himself, this wolf before him seems to be the only one here. However he'd still be in trouble if he needed to run. With this realization he tries to stand up again, only to repeat his previous failure. Damn! What happened to my leg?

ooc