The Sentinels but i know you too well

his wounds were on the mend, no small thanks to izel. he was perhaps not quite fit enough to travel, but his paws were restless, and he found himself on the move. not for good--he wasn't ready, yet, to leave the plateau behind. but he needed some kind of small adventure; it was a hunger, deep in the pit of his stomach.

govinda clambered down the smallest part of the cliffs and found himself in the ruined forest, the once-proud trees reduced to shells of their former selves. he meandered through, feeling as if this were some sort of extended metaphor. it was much like the question of life imitating art (or vice versa). unlike the woods, though, he had brought the fire upon himself. the trees were innocent.

he ceased his existential musings when he came across the woman, similarly walking through the trees. giving her a chuff, he limped over to her, brows raised in question. she was young--it reminded him of dawn, and his heart ached--and smelled strongly of the sea: she was as much a part of the waves as he. one corner of his mouth lifted in a smile.

"i hope you don't live here," govinda murmured, trying to ease the sadness of this place.