Blackbeak Bluff i wonder if she misses me, probably not

With time, the ache has dulled, spiraling into the background with the yearling's myriad of faded bruises — places still too sore to touch, yet healed enough to tuck away. She knows she will survive this.
But it is a strange, sad existence. All that she loves has gone with the wind and rain, and she is alone; IkKanattuk remains a home filled with strangers, and the man who had recruited her seems a ghost within the territory. Or at least, he eludes her, and perhaps she is not as wanted as she'd thought.
It's these things that drive her to the coast again, endlessly chasing this desire she cannot (will not?) put to words. She passes the beach, finds herself drifting along the seaside cliffs — it's beautiful here, and desolate and foreign in a way too familiar for comfort. But there's a scent on the breeze; one she knows, though it takes her a moment to realize it. Rokig.
Finding him isn't difficult, lying prone near the edge of the cliff as if he has joined Lainie in her fate. The steady rise and fall of his chest tells her otherwise, but for a moment her heart jumps to her throat. Are you alright? The inkstain calls softly as she nears him; unexpectedly, she cares. Perhaps it's the resemblance he bears to the sister she'd lost — perhaps it's his role in the final days of her life. She doesn't know, but she thinks maybe it doesn't matter.