The Tangle Moonchild, flying wild.

After, her skin hummed quietly.

He (@Prophet) went his way before Sanja had any sense to notice. Her legs were like kelp at high tide; she carried his scent with her after.

Following the ravine to where it was safe to cross, at first, but the musk of something lively drew Sanja further north. The forest invites her in - and maybe she welcomes the dark of it too.

Thrilled, hungry, alive in a new way.