Waves there moved slower than inland winds ever did.
All Sage knew were forests - thick, walled-in places where mountain slopes rose steep through tangled branches and hidden clearings. Yet here, the land flattened out. No canopy above. Just space, unbroken, spreading wide under a dome of cloud-streaked light. Not one trunk broke that endless view across the sky. And then there was the sea - something she'd never faced before - rolling past the rim of earth in slow heaves of slate-colored swell. It left her feeling tiny. Also limitless.
The Saltwind Cliffs looked just like they sounded - jagged ribs of rock climbing out of the shore, pale from dried sea spray and layers of droppings left by seabirds. Wind never stopped here; it howled through the stone teeth, dragging along sharp ocean smells plus traces of damp earth that Sage's wolf knew from old memories. Something under the noise felt older than stories.
