Cerulean Cape Covered my soul with grit and coal

There seemed to be no destination of the tarnished white wolf that traipsed along the beach that quiet, late afternoon, and yet she carried herself with a purpose that was distinguishable at a distance. Furiosa was not a creature fine-tuned to loneliness, though used the singular advantage of fewer distractions to explore where there was little daylight left to do so. The sun would be swallowed by the sea in another hour or so, leaving the black-eyed wraith with a riling hunger to see as much as she could.

She remembered colder beaches; a fact that compelled her to scoff at the golden warmth that was the peninsula of Cerulean Cape. The ground was soft and inviting, something she found wildly unpleasant after years of almost nothing but cold and ice. She would get more used to it, she supposed, perhaps even come to be more fond of it than she was of the harshness she had been raised in. These lands felt inherently gentler, less competitive, than where she was from, and though Furiosa didn't often wonder, she wondered now if staying too long in this place would turn her gentle too.

That was a fat chance.

@Karma