Ravenshook Cliffs there's a second wind coming, as we lie here in our bed

Another day, another night, blending into each other with the fair certainty of lovers who’ve been together for decades.

And yet, the inevitability of time was Lullaren’s greatest bane. But nothing less than flamenco dancing with the devil could change that, and they admittedly didn’t know the steps well enough to keep up. So time marched on, night and day kept up their sky bound waltz, and the black coated fool slithered past responsibility and loyalty at the speed only a seasoned hedonist could boast of.

They’d been alone for a while, they thought, paws dipping into divots in the rock underneath them as they strolled the cliff tops, inhaling salt infused air and wincing at the taste curling over their tongue and burning their nostrils so bad they had to look away for a moment. Despite a previous life on the ocean, they never had become used to the stench. At the first sign of clear enough land, they broke into a strong trot, burning through the humid air. It burned after a while, the stretch of muscle underneath skin, sinew cording, body warming up with the exercise that finally wasn’t fleeing beds and pack grounds before they were discovered for who they are. That thought sobered them for a time, slowing down as it rattled through their grey matter, before they shook it off as they always did and continued on.

No need for thoughts like that, darling, they chided themself, raising their head, snapping their hair into something more..showman-esque. Flashier. You never know when curtain call was, and the audience was always watching.