Sawtooth Spire there is no hourglass, only sand

@Kjalarr

Away from the coast was where she found herself, and it was a place she did not find herself often. The island had become something of a home; and she, a wolf of the sea. Akantha and Kalika had taught her well, it seemed; her greek was become better practiced by the day; her sibilant tongue moulded easily to the language’s many diphthongs and the newness of it sound. She was proud to say she had even learned several of the siren’s songs, practiced their melodies, and could recite them almost flawlessly. Language was one thing, but song was surely another!

The vaudevillian hungered, as she was wont to due during long swathes of travel. She easily picked her way across the fractured elevation, dexterous paws hardened by the stones of the island. The land seemed quite familiar in that way; though, where the blackwater islands had pines and forest, this place had none. It was different, but nevertheless, the starlet continued to seek movement upon the rocky facade that told of prey.

There was the movement she sought and her gilted gaze flashed in the heavy spring sun. Her broad, deep ribcage kissed the earth and the woman lowered herself into a covert position. Indie assimilated with the shadows; stepping lightly and deliberately so that her presence would remain undetected. When Indie eventually began her charge at the jackrabbit, the creature fluttered and skittered across the landscape towards a dry, rocky place peppered in gnarled, low-lying trees. With this sudden change in terrain, the noir woman’s pursuit was rendered nulled and she slowed to a stop, watching her prey ricocheted away from her.

Indie couldn't help but bark several times in defiance — oh, she was dreadfully out of practice! Indie had never been the most adept hunter per se, but she had been capable. Perhaps she had spent too much time around the sea witches, learning their craft and spinning it better than ever they could... and now she had forgotten the needs of living upon the mainland. When staring into the water's reflection, she could clearly see how the light fractured and how to aim her bite just so; deftly gripping a fish’s body and pulling it from the water — but chasing down a meal? If she didn’t keep herself in practice, it would no longer in her bag of tricks. 

With a sigh she continued on, with pang in her stomach and a wound to her pride.