Grouse Thicket Thousands of sunsets

they were growing.

eshamun woke to the scent of their markings around them, redolent incense for molech, and stretched in the warm sunlight. her lips parted and she would have called ar-khalba to herself had not the great one whispered and sent her off into the woodland. she crossed the borders in a short while and found herself between two forks of a small stream, but the waters ended after a small travel. and so eshamun crossed 'round them and felt her hunger stoked as the sound of birds filled the air.

the crimson-furred woman slid into a hunting crouch and began to stalk the feathered beasts, gathered as they were in a glade. desperation tinged her actions with recklessness, but her step was sure and she lunged forth, snapping for the neck or wing of the nearest fowl.

it was not until eshamun glanced up that she saw the woman there, a finely made creature, and though she wished only to drag the bird to shade and feed, the ekar-aji dropped it and waved her plume affably through the air.