The Sunspire sweaty palms as i walk down this empty road

she knows that scent—
it is the woman who had borne her home the first time, who had hunted alongside her for treasures in the sand. memory flickers and fades and she's hunting after the woman, somewhat abashed at this odd repetition of events past. she is older now, and by all accounts ought too to be wiser. 

she moves at a clip, slowed only by the limp in her left hind, wanting for a familiar face. here is a brief flutter of joy when the woman calls out, a brief smile. she echoes the sound, faint as it is, and beelines toward it. it is only when she is within wight of the woman's rear that she realizes Aure's attention is not on her, but a stranger. maw parts in a soft 'o', and she freezes there, unwilling to interrupt and yet just as much so unwilling to depart.