take me back to the night we met

Shapely royal legs carried the Klein woman over the sandy dunes. She was at home here, after trying to eke out an existence in her motherland Boreas was almost easy. Deathbelle had become lean, with shorter fur better suited for the desert environment. She had become near nocturnal, traveling by night instead of the sweltering heat of the day.

Decorated paws were placed with care on the shifting sides of the dunes. Mismatched ears perked and her brilliant magenta stare wide as the girl took in her surroundings. Not much lived here. Plants and prey were scarce, but so were wolves. No scents clung to the ever changing sand, and she had no sign of Hannibal at all here. She could continue north though, ever seeking her lost blood.

Deathbelle crested the mighty dune, her form silhouetted by the waxing moon. It would be full in just a few nights. The whole of the desert was laid out before the princess as her eyes turned up to the rich tones of the milky way.