Blackbeak Bluff sugar veins

Thankfully,  Kitsch did not have to wait very long before being the presence of another squandered her lonesomeness. In the soft spring light, it was not hard for Kitsch to spot the lissome shape of another upon the coastal cliff line — the form itself was youthful and distinctly feminine, so  Kitsch maintained no reservations about altering her arbitrary course; every sight now set on this soul in the mist. There was a sense of relief that flooded her body at the sudden presence of another and her pace quickened in a jaunty, fluid trot in order to close the distance between them quickly — but also to maintain an air of impermanence. Kitsch drew up to beside the babe [not stopping to consider whether or not such an entrance would be welcome] and muttered one, simple “hey.”