backdated to the 11th
Along the beach she did trail, curious, wandering. Finally returned to the isle and yet restless; it seemed that soon she would have more to think on, though. Upon the shores, a trail of Minori, which she followed boredly across the slopes like a bloodhound. And then- the scent of Donovan- had he paid a last visit before leaving? Even if not, she was sure she would be checking the forest again, emptying it herself if she had to, marking every tree that they once called theirs with the spiteful spirit of an immature child. The hair along her spine rose, though, when the scents intermingled at a point, drawing together and heavy in the area. And- to find these two scents together, Huā would've been more comforted by the tang of blood among them. The absence of it was disturbing... and though she continued on her way, she knew she would have questions for the general later.
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