Dragoncrest Cliffs i beg your parsley

I have no idea where this falls in my timeline. Shrug emoji.

Antumbra is trying to get back into her normal routine when it comes to Drageda but each passing day proves there is nothing normal. There is something vacant in her chest she wishes she could ignore, cold and hardened and displaced. It is easy to shove the thoughts away and not deal with them but eventually they linger, threatening to pop out and ruin the day.

For now, she tries, and she makes her way along the border and strengthens her absent scene in places she hasn’t seen in months.

Up ahead, the form of another catches her attention. Fur bristles along her back and she quickens her pace, growling lowly until she can get a better view. The kill is noted first and the easy posture causes her to relax, but not enough that she is not skeptical. There hadn’t been a call, right? Had she been so lost in thought she’d missed it entirely? She narrows her dark eyes, slowing her approach to an easy trot, circling around to a comfortable distance away.

“Why are you here,” she demands of the stranger, nose twitching for familiar scent but does not find any.