Shimmering Sands O Sinnerman, where you gonna run to?

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Everyone gets one post in before 11/6!

Eartha did not expect to return to this land quickly. She had wanted to be secure in her victory, then to gather her strength and revenge herself on Alizarin's allies when she was ready, not to be thrust back onto this unfamiliar shore once again chasing after this boy. Though there was more than the thought of punishing him bringing her here; the scars from the odd-eyed woman and the half-faced man had long been covered by fur, but the rage she felt sunk deep into her being. The very idea that the little bastard had allies — perhaps a whole pack on his side — infuriated her. Eartha's anger had bubbled out beyond her normally cool facade. She felt pain in her teeth most days — she spent too much of her time gritting her teeth together if she wasn't talking.

Of course, she could not bring a crew here on a white whale hunt. She could not let herself become a tyrant. She'd promise raiding — loot, whatever that meant to the ones who followed her. She'd use their greed to fuel her revenge.

The shore here on the far west reaches of this foreign land was flat, featureless. A poor place to stay even in fair weather; the fall and winter winds would batter them long before they found Rusalka. She leads them far from the waves, towards the trees that stretched out towards the ocean. We'll make camp here, she commands, sitting under one of the salt-beaten trees.