Lion Head Mesa nor do poets

though admitting weakness is not something the stubborn and arrogant worripa likes to do, he also knows that he will not survive much longer on his own. this knowledge makes him yearn for the shadow — wondering where she has gone without him ...or even if it was a place he could follow in the corporeal world. he simply ...does not know and though it digs beneath his skin like barbed wire; prickling and tearing, worripa must — for the moment — focus upon himself.

perhaps later, when he is better nourished, when he has a place to call home ...he could try to find her.

a stranger is quick to approach as his call ends; nothing familiar in the stealthy man's visage. and yet still, there is something that tugs at fragheda. something unrelenting and unnamed.

though this process is unfamiliar to him, worripa's lips part to speak ...to ask, all the same: do you have space in your ranks?