Hopeless Wanderer

The royal woman strode confidently over the shifting sand of the dunes. The heat of the day had subsided with the sun’s return to the horizon. Belle looked out across the empty land before her, head held high and her ivory tail sweeping behind her as she crested the dune. This place was much like the land she had just abandoned. Her heart ached for the loss of the empire, but surged with hope that it would be rebuilt.

The night would be upon her soon, along with the cold it brought in a place like this. She much preferred to travel in the cool of the night than the heat of the day. She sought out those who shared her blood, and even more specifically the heir to their family’s lineage. She needed to find Hannibal.

The woman had no luck in finding a clue to his whereabouts yet, he announced his intentions to come this way, but the lands were vast and she had no way to know where he was now. Elegant features scanned the horizon as the sun cast shadows over the land. An oasis lingered to the west, causing long shadows from the odd vegetation that grew near the water source. Deathbelle decided to start there, and with practiced grace began her descent.