there are many paths to tread
He had not been expecting to find another hint - he had not been expecting there to be actually any truth to the rumors he had heard. And yet there it had been, as plain as day, available for anyone with eyes to see.
It seemed his brief visit was turning into something of a hunt.
It made him feel like his brother, like the twin that was a wolf. His skin itched, his imagination making him shed his scales and trade his serpentine tongue for ivory claws. There was no outward transformation - his coat was still golden and soft and pale beneath the Terrastellan sky - but within, oh, how his thoughts had warped.
He had stopped only once, to roll himself in the field. Toulouse had shaken every last bit of sand from his body, had wiped himself clean of the desert smell. There would be too many questions had he not - questions like the swamp woman had, accusations that he did not belong here. So he convinced himself that he did, and so long as he beheld it as truth within his own mind, fact it would be.
Now he crept along the cliffs, his green eyes sharp and searching even as the riddle rolled through his mind.
Just like Juliet it’s morning again.
And lovers leap from the ward
He frowned. What did Juliet and lovers have to do with the search for Prudence? He wondered if he had to wait until the dawn for the next hint, and the thought crawled like snakes beneath his skin.
The hint repeated itself, over and over and over again in his mind until the words flashed before his eyes and echoed through his lungs.
Just as it divides sea and city.
The cliffs divided the court from the ocean - that part had been obvious. The salt breeze tugged at his mane as he faced the horizon, letting the breeze wash over him.
And as he watched, he resigned himself to waiting for the next clue to reveal itself, pacing back and forth along the cliffs.
@
super rushed post
