Horizon Ridge jenny would dance with her ghosts

this is perfect; thanks for starting! <3

the chill of winter crept in like greedy, grasping fingers. the dreadfather makes their way from the weeping woods of ravensblood, taking distinct note of the leaders absences. more and more their scents seem to fade and a light shiver slithers down their spine in a shudder as they are reminded, once more, of the vision their threadbones had shown them.

it hangs, ever pressing in the forefront of ingram's mind. a desire, a fate; perhaps.

salmon pink tongue drawls across their scarred lips to taste the lingering of salt, getting their fix of the restless and untamable ocean as they pace the ridge; not straying too far from sacrarium despite that they feel no tethers of loyalty.

it is only the spark of opportunity that keeps them there.

in the quickly closing distance: another.

a soft chuff leaves their lips to garner her attention.