Sawtooth Spire and so she spoke chiding the heart in her breast

after spending some time at arrow lake, having sought out the resting place of her parents without consciously making the decision to, she departs with a heavy heart. she wanted to speak to the gravestone, wanted to give voice to all the thoughts and the sorrow she feels. the uncertainty. the lack of identity. of how she could have stayed in crogeda and led but that she always felt like she was missing something and that it always draws her back to these wilds. like a string of destiny guiding her back, refusing to relent. her words had stuck in her mouth like cotton.

so, she ventured on after a bit. the climb up to sawtooth was steep and treacherous in some places where the rocks were slick with morning dew. fear gripped her and her heart dropped to her stomach a few times; wild flashes of images of the boulder that had dislodged and crushed her mother beneath it's weight bearing down upon her cruelly. yet, praimfaya persists. she pushes onward, upward and hesitates at the borders. some scents spark a vague familiarity within her while others — most — are unknown.

after a moment of slow pacing and deliberation she tips her head back and lets out a howl, wondering if the few scents that ring with familiarity will remember her and tells herself then, as she waits, that it is probably unlikely.

@Wylla, @Mahler; someday i'll remember to tag, oof.