You follow the coast North, the wind buffeting around you and whipping salt spray and sand across the beach. There is no sound but the waves, wind and lonely cry of the sea birds wheeling above.
Despite being alone in a strange strange land you feel a sense of peace and well being decend upon you like a silk jacket.
Laughing aloud for no reason but the sheer joy of life, your mirth momentarily breaks the silence, sending a flock of brown and white Sand Pipers to flight. You run along the shallows, drinking in the scent of the ocean, the sight of the crystaline salt-droplets that spray up with each foot fall and the salt-sticky brush of your hair on your ears.
Eventually, winded but oddly refreshed you slow to an amble, turning and walking backwards to see your footprints behind you, gradually disappearing as the waves lick the beach clean of marks again like a great, content green cat crouched in the bay, lapping the milk white beach meditatively.
The vegetation further onshore has changed again, no longer bordered by forest you can see samphire grasses stretching out along dunes that gradually flatten to join some sort of grass lands or semi-arid meadows.
In the distance you can see the long mountain range, known as the Dragon's Spine, that bisects the Tir.
As you near the rocky foot hills of the mountain you see a cave mouth a little way up further North along the beach. The rocks don't seem too sharp or steep. You might be able to scramble up to investigate. Southwards the coast stretches on into the far distance where it rounds a point and disappears from sight.
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