Seaside Moors in russia tragedy, everybody die

SCREAMS IN ALL PLACES

Their numbers dwindled, but a few had joined, so perhaps all was not completely lost.  Rosalyn had yet to meet these newcomers - she tired quickly, and most of her movements involved food and function.

This is the last year.  She thought, and while it was mostly because her back was killing her today (fuck this), something instinctual told her she wasn't wrong.

  Hunting was out of the question right now, but occasionally Rosalyn could find something to scavenge nearer the shore.  Ocean delivery of whatever miserable creature had tested it and found themselves wanting.  She was poking about when she saw a stranger appear in eyeline, and she immediately stopped, her ears tilting back.  This wasn't a state she wanted to be caught in alone.

But he was at their borders...  and they needed crew.  Aye, you!  What do you want?  If he breathes a word about Caiaphas, I swear to fucking... It had been a few weeks, but seemed everyone came here looking for one thing and one thing only.  She held back a bit, leaving plenty of space between them - she didn't trust her ability to run if he was some crazed loner, not with this unweidly body.