Kintla Flatlands ₐｗₒₒₒₒₒ!

Something roused her from her sleep beneath the stars.

Ethereal. Otherworldly. Rising with the cadence of tens, of thousands, even! And Jasmine’s felt a shiver reach from her nose to the very tip of her tail.

Thoughts drifted to Sweetharbour for the first time in forever, to Bartholomew and his teachings of God, and her heart stirred, strange and unfathomable. Weighty — 

ashamed

— and perhaps, even, afraid.

Jasmine skirted the hillside for the cover of trees, ignoring the call for the favour of the silence, in favour of the shadows and the comfort to hide.