Sequoia Coast Cheap tobacco burns the way that bridge between us did

She'd not eaten in days.  There was no prey to be found here, along the entire coast, and the signs of destruction were easily on display.  Still, she held out hope... until she came upon Rusalka.  Rather, on what it once had been.

There wasn't a trace of any of them.  The strand was empty, destroyed, and wiped of any signs that any had once called it home.  

Rosalyn circumnavigated the area, desperately seeking any trace, any clue.  When after hours she came up empty, she departed to sit heavily and to stare, woodenly, at the ocean waters.

That was it then.  They were dead or they were gone, and either way, she wasn't sure where to go from here.  The latter was where she rested, the former too much to bear thinking on right now.

For the first time, as she looked upon the waves, a deep hatred welled like bile in her throat.  She'd always loved the coast, and yet again and again it had betrayed her.  There was nothing but pain, death, and loss here.

She felt the tears burning at her eyes as slowly, a hoarse growl built into a low, despairing shriek at the water.  

It continued, unmoved, as she slid into a sobbing mess on the cliff top.

 All of this, and for nothing.