Seaside Moors Maybe I should get to church on Sunday...

Taking a purposeful stride beyond where Erzulie lingered nose-down upon the path, Stryx began to do the same and mirrored the woman, except her interest lay off the beaten path. Much of the moorland was tough and stony. She found a few patches of looser soil where weeds struggled, and she tugged at these with a few jerks of her face, feeling the dry crunch of the plants beneath her teeth, which she then spat out. A little more work at the roots would pulverize them free, loosening the dirt enough to begin the process of building a cache for the crab.

All the while she was focused intently upon the work - too intently, one might argue. Stryx refused to let herself dwell on the conversation they had shared. The last thing she wanted was a trip down memory lane to her girlhood, although further egging from Erzulie may bring this about. She cuts in to the dirt with her dull claws, feeling her toes catch on some grainy chunks of gravel and detritus, but she did not slow.