Qeya River blood skull

the splatter of a mud paste. she had no wariness of it, but she felt only an indecision on where to apply it. some spread along her muzzle where both his and the dead woman’s teeth had scored. along the hind right leg where the ache still roared. she did not think it was because of a wound, but she hoped it might help all the same.

they were not so different now, were they? she looked at that one eye and wondered what all it had seen.

guardian. she had thought she might be a ranger too, but she had been forced to be within the river before too long. yet she had clearly not been able to guard it as needed either.

could not guard against you, though, hm? it is not disrespect that warms her voice but the dying embers of humor. she tried not to think about how different this might all be if the woman had focused her teeth only upon the true usurper. but what good does it do to question the dead?