Arrow Lake abbatia

badness....

She had sworn to never step place here in the moment of her previous heated ire.The Imperator’s harsh words had resonated much like an arrow piercing a heart—impossible to pull out without bleeding further, and yet there… punctured perfectly within her.

She crooned softly on her journey from the vale to the lake—tongue sliding past her lips as she hushed herself—every so often, she would barely allow herself to graze against the trunk of another tree—knowing very well to leave her lingering scent would be so foolish, and leaving the blanket of warmth and safety Epoch was even more so, but…

…the herbal stash she had maintained so well was missing one very distinct piece for her, and the loss of her control in this matter was what propelled her further. She had seen what she needed—a suppression—was it too late?

That damned lake.

She would reason she had time—a healer at the prime of her age, she should attract very little attention at this point. Her teeth were sharp—her tongue even more so, it seemed. She would find what she needed and make a swift return home—and when all options were laid before her, she could make a decision, if it wasn’t too far past, now.

So of course, when her heated eyes fell upon the oh-so familiar form of the Mereo soldier, she hissed out a breath of disbelief. “Surely there is enough in epoch to keep you closer,” he had ruminated to her—displeased at the mere sight of her their last interlude.

She spun, hoping the distance between them would keep her from his vision, and rather than seek the solace of the lake as she had prior, she loped quickly to the brush nearby, eyes scouring, the prickle of his presence lingering like a sacred itch along her spine and nape.