Swiftcurrent Creek your majesty

She was already walking. His words were but an echo in her mind, the audible inaudible, she had not listened. He could follow, he could trail—
xxxxxxBut she was moving!
xxxxxxA strange sound fell from her then, and the girl of stark white—who had bathed to remove old blood after the ceremony with Sos Himself—marched onward. Forward. He surely could follow even still, her steps were small, meandering. She had no mission. Just to move. The right path, the right path.