Barrow Fields i need not one thing more

ankyra's most miserable scullion found herself alone that day, and relished it. she had taken a rare, delightful excursion to the strand south of them -- and on her return, expected very little trouble. until she ran into a brilliant russet sylph, who seemed enraptured by the snarling sea.

caiaphas set her glowering gaze on the yearling -- she was long-lined and thin, not built unlike a wolf borne of this very beach. something about her was unsettlingly familiar, but the siren queen could not place it. "what, never seen a beach before?" the wretch queried once mona had noticed her.