[ while waiting for a response, xehanort rakes the beach. the sap is scattered in smaller droplets like a spray as well as larger lumps along a short stretch of sand close to the water. ever curious, he reaches for a fist-sized piece coated in sand and tucks it into his coat pocket at the same time his phone buzzes with alhaitham's incoming text. it's a small blessing no one was around to see how embarrassingly he has started, then.
...birds? aside from some puffs of displaced feathers, he hadn't seen any - suddenly concerned, xehanort climbs back up the beach to the edge of the treeline. there, caught in the thin upper branches, he catches sight of a wing sticking out at an awkward angle. startled, his eyes track along the treeline and thinning shore as it returns to a stony surface. now attentive to it, he begins to make out the shapes before he even approaches; grey plumage and brown, dried flesh over thin bones. not many, but some, scattered over and even pierced onto stones.
he feels a little nauseous, quickly texting back a simple yes to alhaitham as he steps past the most concentrated scene of avian carnage. he's back on sandy ground, phone still in hand, when--
crack
--faint, but definitely not his imagination. the sound of wood splintering, echoing through a dark gap in the dense trees bordering the beach. he listens further, and- yes, footfalls. or... footdrags? it's heavy, in any case. movement. frantically, he blind stamps out another text, eyes not leaving the treeline. ]
di dyou hear that. we shouldbe close by. follow sound? into forset
no subject
...birds? aside from some puffs of displaced feathers, he hadn't seen any - suddenly concerned, xehanort climbs back up the beach to the edge of the treeline. there, caught in the thin upper branches, he catches sight of a wing sticking out at an awkward angle. startled, his eyes track along the treeline and thinning shore as it returns to a stony surface. now attentive to it, he begins to make out the shapes before he even approaches; grey plumage and brown, dried flesh over thin bones. not many, but some, scattered over and even pierced onto stones.
he feels a little nauseous, quickly texting back a simple yes to alhaitham as he steps past the most concentrated scene of avian carnage. he's back on sandy ground, phone still in hand, when--
crack
--faint, but definitely not his imagination. the sound of wood splintering, echoing through a dark gap in the dense trees bordering the beach. he listens further, and- yes, footfalls. or... footdrags? it's heavy, in any case. movement. frantically, he blind stamps out another text, eyes not leaving the treeline. ]
di dyou hear that. we shouldbe close by. follow sound? into forset