Ankyra Sound with rejoicing mouth i sing for you and pause

She wondered if her lack of luck was a cloud that clung and swirled around her form like a stench— if that was why she hadn't crossed many wolves in her return to the Wilds thus far. Magpie refused death, but wryly thought that it might come to her anyway. She was a wanderer and had been for almost the entirety of her life. She was no longer unused to long stretches of loneliness, and that had changed her. But even the well-traveled disliked the prospect of a winter without the strength of pack— a time of plenty for them, but a time of famine and risk for the unaffiliated. Desperate to find some companionship, even temporary, Magpie moved northwest from the plains until the land ended.

As many miles as she had seen in her lifetime, the Corvidae had never seen the ocean before. It took her breath away, and for a moment she ceased to do anything at all but attempt to memorize each detail of it and taste it on the breeze. Even in the cold of winter, the scent was exotic. Almost cleansing.

Magpie turned, following the edge of the earth, until she could make out a fiery silhouette just ahead. Torn between the desire to attack and the desire to turn and run, the black-and-white woman simple froze in place— but not before accidentally kicking some snow and gravel over the cliffside, where it echoed painfully over the beach below.