Ankyra Sound Dead doesn't mean gone

Not far from the willows Mae now called home, a land unlike anything she'd ever seen lurked. A place where the air was always cold and laden with salt; a place where the earth fell away into sand and the sand fell away into endless water, stretching on and on into the horizon. She'd ranged quite far from the mountains now. It would be days before she returned.

For now she only watched the churning of the waves. Somewhere further along the beach, just out of sight, a figure stirred and lurched from the waters. Intuition beckoned her then, and Mae turned her eyes toward the pale figure. Thin; disheveled, like something tossed out by the waves. Maybe he was.

Mae stood, starting down the beach at a wary pace. Her eyes never left the figure.