Sun Mote Copse and my whole earth shook

yet another woman, but today she feels no urgency. 

she followed the bend of the river, one ear turned towards where vermouth’s silhouette had faded. occasionally she glanced back, and seeing him no longer, decided to rake through an old cache ripe with the scent of visitors. 

somewhere behind her the woman laid at the foot of a tree like a pale wildwood adonis. she paid no mind, her teeth crunching as she snacked on old bones. 

she’s within earshot but skip me until I pop back in :D