Ankyra Sound no sorrow or pity for leaving i feel

her lips pursed in a thoughtful frown. the snow beneath their feet, interrupted in some places by bald rags of barren earth, showed enough of a story -- as for the nature of that story, or why it had happened, the pair would likely never know. yet the prints and the scuffle were cleanly decipherable -- and rosalyn's scent was fresh here.

her expression fell to grave contemplation, and the frown withered away. "i've encountered this scent before." she thought back on the day rosalyn had disappointingly not delivered -- how different things would be if the russet woman had understood caiaphas' (albeit cryptic) egging, and turned against the dark-furred woman alongside her. moment's ruined, indeed.

"that is drageda - and that is rosalyn. we can follow.. or think of what to do." her tail flicked as she thought, not unlike the twitch of a pondering cat. "if she is not dead, that means she has value alive. what use is she for these wolves, do you know?"