The stag had left the meadow, having not fully understood why everyone had commenced there. It was just some tree to him. It had not, however turned him to a fowl mood, for such a beast to come into an emotion was little be known. Never angered or enraged, he simply was calm and collected, with a little of a childish spirit lingering on the boarders.
Leaving the meadow however had left him in a little befuddlement. So caught up in attempting to remove those pesky, spiked, thistle heads from his fur. He had not really been paying attention to the direction he was traveling, swaying way of track than he should have, directed due west rather than North bound, the place of home.
Just as he managed to remove the last of the thistle spores from the feathers upon his legs, The stag stumbled upon something strange. Hooves seemed to sink into the Earth, a soft substrate underfoot, but not the cold kind the beast was so used too. It was warm and grainy, rather than soft and wet. Taking a step back orange orbs glanced down to the ground. It was golden in colour and so very strange, nothing like he had ever seen before. The beast just simply did not know what to do, or make of it for that matter.
Was it safe to walk upon? Would the ground swollow him up if he did so. The poor guy was in such a confusion, with no place to go. Trapped by the golden ground all around, he either went on wards or headed back.
Perhaps the darkness that now fell over all the lands had caused his trail to be off, His nose was usually pretty good at finding the snow and cold. But someone it burned with a brine, a salty air that stuck. Small salt crystals even began to form upon the hair that now layered his face. What was this place? The sound of water crashing against the land hollowed out through his ears. He knew that sound, but this tundra was very new to him in all aspects of being.
A new scent filtered through his nostrils. There were two others upon this shore, both Unicorns, for he would not have regonised them if they were not of the horned kind. apart of him that longed to be with others drove his large round hooves forwards, the move was difficult, the earth just kept rolling away from him with each step. How anyone could maneuver in such substrate he did not know. Then again, others found the ice and snow just as morbidly difficult.
The closer he got to the sound of the waves, the more easy the ground became to tread, eventually it changed to a rocky surface the beast was very familiar with, bringing back a gentle smile that forever sat itself upon the beasts features. The moon hung heavily above, casting the place in a silvery glow, reminding him muchly of the snow he dwelled.
Moving to where the others would see him, addressing his presence in full, placing across that he was not there to harm, Beowulf kept a distance from them, gently bowing his head to the side in a formal greeting. "Sorry to be intrusive, But I appear to be lost. Could one of you maybe help me back upon my way again?" he asked very polite and it hopes of not interfering with their forthcoming's. He really was just lost and wanted to find his way back home again.

@[Maeve]
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