Dahozhoni Meadow At least we loved hard, now didn’t we, baby?

A cry curdled out the imp's mouth. Stumbling over on that front right leg, hitting the ground hard and scraping a cheek. A woman of deep reds on the cape that faded down into a dark black. A smoky belly and hawk gold eyes.

Limping again once back on her feet, low bellied and huffing breaths of air that sharply took over her throat. The desert heat had grown nauseating. Dirt and sand blended into one another. Eyes desperately shot up to the figure, and whines riddled the imps throat as she turned to show her side with a tucked tail. Flattened ears, upturned brows. Exhausted. Bloodied on that leg.