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March 31st-April 1st


She was awake and well when the great beast began to creep across the concrete horizon that she knew so well. It took down buildings slowly, but spread quickly. She reacted numbly at first, too dazzled by the brilliance amongst the quiet chaos. What did she really have to rush for, anyway? All of the pretty dresses and quirky artifacts that she kept instead of company would dissolve into smoke no matter what she did or said. It had been a mistake to shrug a shoulder at her own mortality, though; it caught up to her by the time she was halfway through the Luminous Sanctuary (oh, how truly luminous it was!), leaping from one crusty old house to the next before her clumsy luperci feet could make it past. The smoke grew thick from either side, stifling her lungs and stinging her eyes. A false step pushed her against a smoldering telephone post, and she screamed out. It was a pitch that hit her every time this year, some way or another.


Happy Birthday, Poe. Better grasp a little tighter to those threads of lost hope, because they're the only way out of this, and being reeled in fast. Misery, Sukan, Yule, they had all held the other end and, with a tug one way or the other, led her out. Who was on the other end of this one, her mind wildly speculated as she threw herself back into motion, the smell and feel of burnt fabric, fur and flesh covered by the thick smoke that followed her for longer than she kept track of.


The Yawrah was not the barrier of destruction that she had thought it would be, but a highway to round up or slaughter any and all life in this broad, beloved landscape. Chimera was finally cremated as it should have been long ago, and she followed the sound of distant and broken packs into the unclaimed north-west, as they all did. She followed the path that she had taken twice before in her life, and moved in quiet solitude further from the smoking remains of her childhood.

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