Sea Lion Shores the preacher in a t-shirt told me i could be a leader

a commotion ensued too overwhelming for ava to parse. 

nearby in the sand, that rudimentary cross thrummed with hateful energy that forced ava to turn away. 

she buried her face — her shameful face — in caracal’s reaching embrace. somewhere nearby the man in the mask spoke, his words soothing. 

but ava was not soothed. why the screaming, the running, the arrival of a new man who was sent speedily after dinah’s fleeing form? 

was it in the curse of the stranger’s marked face?

was it her own?

while dinah buried herself in some distant crevice, ava sat dumbly on the sand with tears darkening her ruined face.