The Sunspire XXVI

She gave him a prize.

She smelled the scents of the Rise, caked thickest upon him first. The scent of health and numbers. Then she was awarded another piece. Something else, something distinctly not his carried cologne.

Yet here was an in, a way to find something out. Perhaps she would not be cold all winter away from Akashingo.

Her shoulders hunched, tail lashed, a rumbled note. She could follow him, if he needed it.