If am lost, I am lost on purpose.
Alaska still prefers to keep to herself, although she thinks of the strange silver man she had met.
She takes to the skies and to the oceans. Finds herself in the tides and the gale, until the heart of the very world seems to swallow her whole within it. But she still finds herself retracing certain steps. She finds herself coming back to the place where she had met Wolfbane, the only surrogate father that she had ever known. She finds herself walking alongside the same paths and remembering when it had been like as a young child to wrestle with him and discover all of the ways that her body could bend and warp.
The fact that it is a kingdom and not hers to command does not occur to her.
That she is trespassing is a fact she gladly ignores.
She nearly is done with her walk when she hears something that sounds like death. Something that whispers of pain and agony—that causes the hairs on the back of her neck to stand on end.
Her fine head twists to the side and her eyes flick until she catches the sight of the blood on the ground. Her stomach clenches as she begins to follow along, her nose shifting ever so slightly to better track the metallic scent. Her eyes sharpen, becoming something other, as she follows the pattern.
And her vision nearly doubles when she sees him crumpled on the ground.
“Mesec,” it sounds foreign in her mouth, hollow and echoing. “Mesec,” her throat is dry as she takes a step toward him, trying to take stock of the damage that seems unending. “What—what happened?”
She is not certain he can answer.
She is not certain she wants him to.
@[Mesec]