Sleepy Fox Hollow out with a whimper, it's not a blaze of glory

she'd laid low for months, scavenging on roots that tasted of dirt and occasionally a cache exposed to the wintercold. throughout these lean months the overworld had been silent -- perhaps they too recovered from the enormous energy spent at her haka's behest.

though her limb had healed and she'd managed to survive, now more than ever qiao appeared old. her spine stooped, her limbs bent -- even the wizening of her greying face gave away the eons of life endured on that muzzle.

she'd managed to recover both her greenbrier torc and the skull totem; the rest had been lost in the flood. a misfortune, but not one qiao was unable to overcome. she'd started over countless times -- and now that the blood debt was paid, she could start the newest chapter of her lengthy life.

a quieter one, perhaps -- where she could live the next few years as a harmless herb-marm or medicinewoman.

setting the skull upon the snow, qiao uncovered the remains of a fox killed by exposure. something of its scent was off, and so she covered it again with snow.

turning to collect the skull, she saw disapproval glowering within those blackened sockets. what? she picked at her teeth with one claw. all these years, and now you grow a conscience? scoffing, qiao bent and picked up her totem, ranging northeast where the overworld's dimmed voice grew in strength.