Stavanger Bay since the death of god there’s been a vacancy open

melena.

jarred from spiritwreathed trance, the listener blinked. her fur, saltdamp and flecked with pale sand. tiny bones and iridescent shells lay in the damp dirt at the listener's small pointed paws, encircling the skyrock which was nestled among thin scatterings of willowy coastal grass. at her back, a dark figure, standing stark against the pale churning of a stormy grey sky over sand and sea.

the listener tilted her head to peer over one sharp shoulder, bleary gaze fixing on the silhouetted form of morgana through the fog. silence hung in the air between them, thick as the icy haze that left tiny glittering dewdrops like stars strewn over their nightspun coats.