Seaside Moors faith

for the first time, iza experiences a touch of loneliness.

it is strong enough to drive the wolfmother from where she has gone to ground in the shadows of that silent forest.

here the land is open and studded with stones. even swollen with child, iza stumbles at the force of howling windstrike.

there is nothing here to hunt or to chase, yet she remains, forcing herself to walk in slow steps as she stares at the sea.

ears twitch all the while for the stepping-sound of her own. iza will flit away, anonymous as the seabirds which throng the white beach.