Ankyra Sound burn that bridge when you come to it

following her incursion with vercingetorix, caiaphas had been lying low. the wound on her neck had closed over once more, but still throbbed -- she was hardly hale enough for more than simple border patrol.

luckily, patrolling was routine to the siren, and by now the perimeter of rusalka boasted a well-defined and frequented path, which visibly delineated the end of their reach and the start of the hinterlands. it was here caiaphas paused, finding a scent on the breeze -- not dragedan, but not welcome, either.

she inspected further, finding at length a woman supine on the forest floor -- a most curious mosaic of markings across her face. the shrew straightened her posture and regarded huntington coldly, wondering if she was here to start trouble by the way it appeared she was simply waiting.