Dawnlark Plains why men great 'til they gotta be great?

She'd once more tried to get to the coast, only to find it utterly inhabitable. Waves, storms, chaos. . .fuck all that. It made her a little sad to see Mother Sea so angry, only she knew that it wasn't her that had incurred Her wrath. Astrateia had been a dutiful daughter from birth. A full-hearted Nereid.

Full-hearted, but not full-blooded. It hadn't been a thrall that had put his seed within Phoebe but some rogue, a blue-eyed, black-furred charmer. Hell, her mother hadn't even gotten his name. She had no way of tracking him down, ever. And so she would forever be fatherless. . .

Not that she minded. Really, why should she? Her mother had been enough for her. Would always be more than enough, just as she would be enough for her own brood, someday.

But no, even though Astrateia yearned for the sea, she could not reach it. It was too turbulent. So she remained within the taiga, traveling slowly, aimlessly. She was on a mission but had been scattered from her sisters; the warrioress had no notion of where to go next. She had been thrown completely off-kilter.

Instead, she trotted across the plains, looking for game that no one was finding, because they, too, had fled the chaos for greener, calmer pastures.