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The sea called to her. Misery had always held a fondness for being near the water. The piece of driftwood she was currently kneeling next too was particularly fascinating - the wood all twisted and strange from the water. The female was making her mind up whether or not to carry the piece back to her cave in Anathema, she enjoyed watching the driftwood burn. Fire could show one things that they were part of their kismet. Misery felt like she could use that - a sense of destiny. The visit from the dark spirit of her god had rattled her. Things felt unsettled and strange for her, and Misery was unsure of things. The old female felt rather like she was drifting out to sea, lost and weightless in the depths.
A foul mood had seized her. The dark spirit of Tak, devil-god of her homeland had visited her in the night. She had done her best to banish it, but the devil never really went away. Even now she could feel his red eyes looming and watching her. A heavy bandage wrapped her right hand and wrist - the cuts and burns beneath the bandages throbbed. Sleeplessness had plagued her as well, and the old wolf was rather in a fighting mood. She rose slowly, placing weight on her sleek black cane, giving the driftwood one last quick glance before looking around the quiet bay. Even the serenity of the place couldn't lift her dark, frightened mood.
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