As dawn finally breaks, Sloane stretches from her spot beneath a tree. This little island has been her home for the last few months. It was here that she self-reflected and self-loathed. It was here that the barterer of secrets was able to reflect on her time here and how she wanted to proceed. She had regained her magic, only for it to be but a fraction of what she was used to. It was painful to want her magic so badly, only to have it so restricted!
She felt inadequate as a spy, as a trader of secrets. And so, the black and red mare left her small little island and set out for a journey of self-reflection. She started off her trek in the forest, the same one that had been burned to ash by those fucking squirrels and their fire spines. The forest, although much of it had been burned to a crisp, was starting to regrow. The plants were beginning to grow anew. New life almost made Sloane gag. But what she was not prepared for, however, was what she stumbled on next.
It was the cloven hoof prints in the ground that first captured her attention. She studied them, noting that whatever large beast this was, walked on two legs - something she had never seen before. What sort of beast walked on two legs? With cloven hooves to boot? Something she had only heard about in stories her mother used to tell her and her triplet siblings.
And as she followed the prints, the smell of blood began to fill the air. That was never a good sign, but she followed it anyway. And as she came upon the two bodies, there were two others already there. “Are you responsible for the bodies in my home?” Her words were harsh, angered, and gruff. While she knew the two didn’t commit this crime, she took some sick pleasure in watching others squirm. She saw the terrified looks on their faces, the horror over coming over a scene as brutal as this. No, they did not do this. Whatever made those tracks in the forest did.
