Blacktail Deer Plateau weld the gates to heaven shut

Rosalyn noticed Erzulie's attention on the horizon, as her own had been before.  She herself did not turn to it again.  Once, the ocean has elicited a feeling of home.  An indescribable sense of worth, awe, power.  Beauty.  Now, she felt nothing.  There was barely a flicker of it in the tattered remnants.

I am back. she replied, softly, and gently rested her head atop Erzulie's. but I am.... tired.  She felt hollow, like the husks that used to was up on the shore.  The ones, she recalled, Scarab had enjoyed collecting so much.  She felt as if she didn't have much left of herself to give, and even the thought of relocating seemed distant.  She did not care where they ended up.  She only cared that they remained together.

But she knew that answer wasn't a good one, and she so she tried to recall anything that might help to determine a course.  Any allies, anyone she might know.  There was the blind girl she'd helped, whose family might owe a favor.  A last resort.  Outside of that... the willows were gone.  The coast was a wasteland.  The places she'd traveled had offered little.

Scarab was with a pack, yes? she said, the words coming out slow and perhaps a bit unsure.  Perhaps he made some friends there.