[/html]It's gonna be even more awesome then!
Time and distance were fickle things. Days passed quickly, or slowly, or sometimes, seemingly not at all. The sun and the moon rose and fell, but they were cycles that meant nothing when counted in single digits. As the moon cycles through its phases though, and as the seasons changed, the indication of passing time became clearer, and the days numbering in the hundreds were proof that it had been a long while since. And the miles she'd walked only rose in count as well. Over mountains she'd gone, through forests and passing by lakes, beaches, houses, corpses, figurative and literal. The miles numbered more than the days, but together they were a chasm, or many chasms: heavy trenches separating the only points of her life that were worth remembering, or worth forgetting.
There were many chasms between herself and home, or none at all.
"You'd be right," she said. "If I had a home any longer." Cassandra was not sure how to read the other's hint of a smile. The scent of the coast, of the sea, of blood, and of victory, was very different from her own. She smelled of pine, dirty snow, and mountain air, all wrapped up with a sprig of old spearmint. But everything faded quickly enough, and the backdrops around her had been changing too frequently for any one thing to cling too closely. A wanderer and a vagrant was what her scent described her as. And he was certainly settled. As individuals, they stood in very different places, but she wondered how closely they sat on the family tree, if her mother's family was as large and sprawling as it had always been described to her.
"Do you normally hunt so away from Inferni? That's where you're from, right?"
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