A line of paw prints etched their way west, growing bloodier as they went. Her pads were torn from the heat, and the salt and grit of the flats stung with each step. The pain radiated up from where her paws met the ground, but Emaleth continued to move mechanically and without complaint. This physical pain was nothing compared to the black hole that was her heart; the loss of her father was unbearable, another blow that her accidental curse had landed.
She would not allow further harm to come to Donnelaith, and especially not to the other half of her soul and self, Deirdre. Emaleth vowed that she would never to perform magicks again. It was too fickle, too dangerous. It had destroyed nearly everything she held dear.
Emaleth knew not where she was going, nor if she would find solace amongst the living or the dead. She did not care so long as she was away.
All that they would find of her would be these bloodied paw prints, disappearing west.
She would not allow further harm to come to Donnelaith, and especially not to the other half of her soul and self, Deirdre. Emaleth vowed that she would never to perform magicks again. It was too fickle, too dangerous. It had destroyed nearly everything she held dear.
Emaleth knew not where she was going, nor if she would find solace amongst the living or the dead. She did not care so long as she was away.
All that they would find of her would be these bloodied paw prints, disappearing west.
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