each day makes kaede realize how much she has relied upon men. it had always been known, but now that she feels permanently stained by travel and carved down to nothing, it feels all the more stark, that bitter knowledge.
ursine reek is heavy on the dewy green flanks of this elevated pass. she is forced to slow all the same. it is no longer her breath; it is some weakness that refuses to pull its teeth from her spirit.
the land provides a sight: a beautiful woman of oaken shade, anointing herself with flowers.
kaede commands her attention with a soft sigh.
