[/html]Middle of the night, 25th August.
Three days they had traveled and not yet arrived, but Cassandra reminded herself to be grateful. A month ago she did not have a horse, after all, and if the journey was difficult now, it could have been so much worse then. Their progress back up the peninsula had been hindered by numerous things, but none of them could have really been helped. It was hard for her to direct Soir during the day. The rain had left and the sun shone again, making it harder for her to see. The fever she had predicted had come, and after devouring her tiny supply of poppy, the only way she had of alleiviating the pain from her shoulder and the invisible weight crushing her skull was to sleep.
And she had needed to hunt. Feverish and aching terribly, she had gone hungry the first day. The second day, she had somehow managed to catch a small rabbit off guard and had snapped its neck when she grabbed it. She was not accustomed to hunting in her two-legged form, but she did not want to shift until she knew better the condition of her ankle and shoulder. On the third day, she had scavenged a day-old doe that crows had already picked at. It had been a miserable experience, but not one that was new to her.
It was halfway through the night again now. A thousand stars were in the sky, but the crescent moon hid behind one of the few clouds. Soir rode at a soft trot; Cassandra was not confident she was alert enough to keep the mare under control at a faster gait. She knew they were near. The scent of the salt and coyotes and distant family lingered all around, heavy and pungent, but it could not compete with the rancid smell of caked blood, guts, and dried mud that still clung to her, her cloak, and her poor horse. As the border of skulls came into view at long last, the albino woman felt simultaneously a dull sense of relief and a sharp, stabbing dread.
She had Soir stop a fair distance from the border and simply lay there atop the palomino for a few moments, upper body leaning against the horse's neck. Cassandra wished there was a cave she could crawl into instead, one she could be sure no one would find her in. She exhaled slowly and forced herself to sit up properly, focusing on the pain in her back to distract from the more persistent burning in her shoulder. She parted her still-bloody maw to howl, voice high and mournful. The call only held her sister's name. Help, some part of her had wanted to add, but she pushed it away. Cassandra leaned forward again, resting wearily on her horse, and waited.
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