Ouroboros Spine x-ing a paragrab

qanaagal!

the word rings out sharp, shattering the silence. her eyes dart and she spots white, just as bright and clear against the dark verdance of the woods as she. that woman.

she bolts.

for all she lacks in muscle, Avicus has agility. skittering fragrant cones and needles in her wake, she continues to hustle up the slope, knowing all the while that this is a suicide mission.

all this for a measly morsel of flesh?

but deep down, she's aware that it's not about the food. not entirely, anyway. she feasts upon the chase, the pursuit—even if she is the one being pursued. she sees no spirits; she has no purpose upon the earth except to take, take, take

moonwoman may not be a thief (or so she says) but Avicus is.