Cerulean Cape blood canticle

Oh hello!

She knew how to use her nose—tracking, trailing, these came naturally to her. The rest was another matter entirely. She had simply been drawn by the briny breath of the coast, a place her sister would have loved, a place where she perhaps hoped to cross her path. But it was a subtle scent of blood—faint, nearly imperceptible—that had slipped into her awareness. A wound far too minor to cause any real concern. Still, she had followed the trail.

At the horizon, she glimpsed the creature that had left it in its wake. A great brown beast. The pale woman narrowed her eyes, as if doing so might bring it into sharper focus. She moved closer, gliding across the expanse of sand with her light, floating stride.

A man. A tall man, swathed in a coat of many hues of brown. Silent, she drew level with him—she’d even had to stretch her gait, shifting from her usual airy trot to a measured amble to conserve her strength. She studied him without a word. Was this what the hunters of these lands looked like? What kind of trophies could men such as this possibly bring back? The question lingered in her mind.