washed ashore
(check the bio)
Mornauto's eyes glow dimly red with the occasional blue flicker as he looks around the new land he has come upon. There is no sign of civilization, but plenty of signs of life. Lush vegetation grows a little ways back from the rocky shoreline. Such a forest is an uncertain refuge at best, but it provides far more comfort than the stormy sea that destroyed what had been his whole life. Mornauto limps haggardly into the trees, fades deftly into the shadows and sleeps like dead.
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mornauto's journal