Dragoncrest Cliffs dlo nan je

sobo is dead.
mireille tripped; fore-ankle twisted, almost dumping her unceremoniously against the fouled earth of sapphique. her eyes were hot with surprise and a quick, vengeful anger. why would he say that?
but a single look upon his stricken countenance told her it was an impenetrable truth. she stood nursing her light sprain, and all the hairs slowly stood on end upon her hackles.
flames now turning to water; she thrust her tearing face slowly close to that of val, even as limbs felt numb and leaden —
sobo! sobo!
"was dat why my mot'er screamed?" mireille said, though she knew. she did not want to know. she did not —
her breath was a quick cactus-spiking of panic, and in desperation she flung her gaze to the sea, seeking peace, seeking something that was no longer her right.
and then she too screamed, though it was not the desperate shriek of a bereaved mother but the drumming war-cry of a wronged woman.
the graves. she left val behind in thought, not stumbling upon the rocky ground even as tears blurred her vision and rage burnt all the rest away.