Noirette and Blanchette pressed onward, their footsteps crunching through the underbrush as they veered toward what passed for north in this fractured continent.
The rippling sun hung low on the horizon, its distorted rays pulsing like a faulty lantern, casting elongated shadows that twisted unnaturally across the terrain.
The landscape unfolded in uneven patches—crumbling ruins giving way to dense thickets, occasional clearings scarred by entropy's touch.
Noirette wiped the last traces of ichor from her face with the back of her hand, the Fallacy Cover still draped around her neck like a trophy, and most importantly, a great tool of survival since Blanchette too barely possess any presence for anything to sniff around.
As they walked, Noirette glanced sidelong at Blanchette, who hummed a tuneless melody under her breath, her cloak swaying with each step.
