Backdated about a week!
Weeks fluttered away in the wind like the feathers she'd left behind at Forneskja. Seastorm, between healing and testing her luck at hunting, had begun a half-hearted sort of collection — but they weren't as beautiful, so she soon abandoned it. Would she ever again own a pelt as fine as the one Callyope had brought her?The assassin was accustomed to owning nothing, of course. She bit back her complaints and sulked only to herself when the mood struck her. Besides, @Catamaran had saved her life in bringing her here. She knew that.
On the morning she finally felt well enough, Seastorm slipped away from the others to familiarize herself with Moonspear's land — and perhaps choose a place for herself, too. She did not think of the bounty hunter as she skirted around Moonspear's peak in search of solitude. Instead she noticed that there were not as many scents clustered together on the opposite side of the mountain.
She moved to walk alongside a little waterway, some snowmelt stream from the mountaintop, following it to where it pooled into an end. Only then did she think of Catamaran, nudging some dirt away from a hollow beneath the thick root of an old tree and realizing belatedly that she could not dig it out. Seastorm plopped herself down in a huff, resolving to sit and wait for the bounty hunter. He would come to her eventually, and she hoped that he would bring food when he did.
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