There was no way that she could miss the scent of her brother, for it was deeply engrained within her own. They were much alike, save the fact that Pandemic so often seemed willing to remain quiet. Salvia could not hold her silver tongue when she felt the need to speak. Often this got her into trouble; her arrogance was interpreted as disrespect. This was not to say she was not being disrespectful—Salvia, like her mother, was a proud and fiercely egotistical creature.
The trail led her to the shadow that was her blood, and she reflected on how much larger he was than her. She envied that. He would be as big as their father, while she would never tower over the world with such height. Her approach was silent, presence made only by the wind turning and bringing her scent down to the dark shape that she imagined would one day bring fear into many others. How much like Tak the boy looked, save his starlit eyes.
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