Swiftcurrent Creek once, there was a way to get back home

The madman was gone, but his death throes haunted her still. She hadn't slept a wink since that fated day, carrying on down the mountain and toward her father's territory. She spoke no words, her single eye a beacon through the murky aftermath.

Shock. Pain. Despair.

She'd done her best to clean the bite wound upon her shoulder, taking a detour to wash herself in the sea. The salt on tattered flesh had hurt worse than the blow itself, but she dared not risk contaminating some freshwater source with this. . .

Disease.

The superficial wound was healing, she thought, but Lilitu wondered—

It was only a matter of time, right?

She stopped at the border with lead in her stomach and her heart in her throat. Her call for @Akavir was friendly but timorous, and she instructed him to come alone:

It would be hard enough to tell him that she was going to die without a captive audience listening in.

set for the 23rd