Ankyra Sound the ships are left to rust

@Meteora

The familiar sight of the towering sequoias welcomed her silently as she passed beneath their ancient boughs. A weather eye would recognize her heading as she strode confidently down old wolf trails. When the first Sirens set foot on what was to be the newest settlement, Akantha was young and unrefined. Now she was wisened, hale, and resolute. She was not so superstitious as to assume that the ghostly visages of her past still lingered here. The only thing that remained of Ankrya Sound was the skeletal remains of old kills, and the faded, vaguely mammalian scents that still criss-crossed the heart of the forest. She missed them—regret was a familiar sting, and she worried constantly whether or not this branch would even reach the potential they hoped. The earthen she-wolf was a devoted thing; resolved to dig deep and stick it out to the bitter end.

She arrived the cliffs in little time at all and stopped just short of the edge. Akantha lept upon a fallen trunk and her claws scraped against layers of ice and snow as she scrambled to establish a solid footing. The same bitter wind lashed against her fur, but she stood fast against it as she cast her gaze out over the Sea. The islands off the coast were barely visable, and her eyes teared up from the shearing wind that assaulted her as she stood tall above the shore below. Akantha blinked away the sting and drew in a great breath, expelling it shortly after as a sigh.

Sorry for the long wait & short post.

She had heard of this place and its sacred nature, though Meteora had never seen it with her own eyes. She expected to feel a deep resonance in her bones as she drew along the line of cliffs, that it would call out to her blood— but it felt no different than any other shore. For Akantha, she knew it would be different... for the woman had made her home here once upon a time. It was for the amazon that Meteora searched.

Against the winds, she doggedly moved towards the figure ahead, and stood at her side in silence— allowing the other space to speak from her heart, in a place that held meaning for her but little to Meteora.

There was no peace to be found here, only ghosts of an ill begotten age, and promises left unkept.

Meteora had a way of finding her—she had a talent for reading the brutish woman and that Akantha was not so keen to revel in. She disliked being predictable, though she'd hardly proven herself to be anything but in all her years. Even Kalika, young and naive Kalika who followed her whims, knew how to navigate her temper. Her ears swiveled around at the sound of snow underfoot, and her nose flared to draw in the sea-borne scent of the woman she followed with an open heart and mind against her usual judgement.

Akantha disengaged herself from reminiscing and turned to settle her shrewd earthy eyes on the grayscale woman. She was the perfect picture of serenity as always, and she was waiting with no expectations other than to share in the company of one another. There were times that she wished for that level of patience, but knew she was born with the fire of creation in her blood; she could not quench it no more than the Mother could calm the tempests of her fury. "We lost Sisters here." she professed gruffly, "I hope you're not thinking of settling us here again, because I am not of a mind to relieve past experiences."